HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY
by King Kubar
Summary: Hope is the only thing more powerful than fear, but fear is far more encompassing. Fear is the one thing shared between the lowest seam child of Distrcit 12 and President Snow himself. But while the child fears losing family, losing his life to hunger, Snow fears losing his power, rebellion, and most of all the 'Mad Victor', the one mad that never feared him.
1. Chapter 1: Fear reviled

I do not own the Hunger Games series, that honor belongs to Susan Collins.

This is a little different for me, and experiment in writing I guess. Any of my readers will tell you, there is not much in the way of seriousness in my fictions. I'm attempting to make a more serious story this time. Not sure how long I'll keep at it, or even if I'll keep up. But I'll try my hand. Now, before anyone starts, I prefer Katniss and Peeta, but I think Gale is cool. Everything that happens in the book up until the start of this story is the same, Katniss's confusion, her and Peeta's strained relationship, Snow's threat, all of that. I'm not changing personalities, so Gale isn't going to be supper nice, or a antagonistic jerk. Peeta's not going to be super lovey dovey(he wasn't in the books, he was romantic) . I am not familiar with these characters completely (as in writing them) so if I don't do them right let me know(with ways to improve trolls out there.) Anyway, too long Authors note, on to the story.

**HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY**

**Chapter 1: Fear reviled**

It was silent now, the trees and mountains outside the train passing by as one large blur. No noise, not the sound of the rails below cringing as the train pressed down, nor the clacking of the cars as they shook. A testament to the Capitols technology, more concerned with comfort than utility. It was dark now, the night sky clear of clouds but no less foreboding. The passengers looking up from time to time, wondering when the time will come that they see nothing but darkness. Not this dark blue, star filled sky, but pitch darkness.

"I wonder sometimes if we know we're dead." Peeta said, looking to Katniss from his place on a couch. Before him was a note book and pen, several tapes that had numbers followed by HG on the labels. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No." Katniss replied, walking over to him. She sat beside him, not to close but not too far, an even distance. It wasn't what Katniss would call comfortable. Their relationship, whatever it was, had become strained, in no small part to her. A nagging part of her mind likes to bring up that Peeta was at fault to, but she ignored it. She owed him that much, and in her mind so much more. "What are you doing?"

"Taking notes, figured I might as well watch them all." Peeta stated, putting another tape into the player. "We didn't watch the reapings remember, plus Snow might just drop other victors on us."

"Sound like something he'd do." Katniss agreed, looking down at the tapes. She noticed two cups of tea, one by Peeta and the other alone. "Expecting company?" she asked with a tone of humor in her voice.

"Not really." Peeta replied. "But I knew you'd be awake, and if not then Haymitch might wander in. If no one came I'd just finish it myself. I added honey, for sweetness." He explained. Katniss looked at it, picking it up and taking a sip, letting the warm and sweet liquid flow down her throat.

_"Ever the caring one."_ She thought, thinking on Peeta's words. He did know her well enough to make that guess, but he didn't set it for her. That bothered her more than it should, as did the distance he kept. He didn't look at her, attempt to move closer to her, give more than a cool acknowledgment of her presence. She preferred the warmth of his arms to his cool indifference, but she knew it was wrong. She had chosen Gale and the rebellion, so wanting another man's arms around her filled Katniss with guilt. She had used Peeta to keep away her nightmare on the victory tour, but the moment they were back she chose Gale. And then she used him again when she needed rest and didn't want to be away from Gale. Peeta knew her better than most; he knew she was using him. She couldn't really blame him for keeping his distance now.

_"But I can't be with Gale now."_ She thought, and she was right, that option was gone forever. The games would make sure of that. But Peeta was here, and she was going to get him out of the games alive. _"Why not make him happy, if only for a moment. " _She could let herself be with him, feel his love for her. It wouldn't be leading him on, maybe not real but it would comfort her. But even as she thought it over she grew more ashamed of herself. Whatever confusion she might have she was planning on using Peeta again, and he would know it. Loving, caring Peeta would let her use him like that. _"Just how much can I hurt him before he leaves me completely?"_

"Katniss?" Peeta asked, waking her from her daze. She looked to him, his brow up in confusion, but he made no move to touch her. If he had she'd either pull away in guilt or embrace him for his warmth, which incidentally would make her feel guiltier.

"I'm sorry Peeta." She said suddenly. His eyes went wide in surprise, clearly not expecting that. He paused the tape, letting her say what she had to say. "I'm not good with word like you, so just give me a moment."

"Take your time Katniss." He assured, his impossibly blue eyes showing her the affection she secretly craved. Whatever her feelings she never wanted those eyes to look on her negatively. She sighed, looking into the liquid, judging her words.

"When the games were over and we got back, I left you. I didn't seek you out, didn't see if you were okay. I don't know if you were hurting, if you needed anyone, nothing." She began, looking into his eyes. Peeta stayed silent, though the quiver of his lips showed he wanted to speak. He let her continue, his eyes boring into hers, as if he was seeing her soul. "Then we talked, we were getting better, but you were never as close as before. I had Gale and I don't know if you hand anyone. On the tour I used you to comfort me."

"I didn't have to be there." Peeta cut her off, reaching over and touching her hand. Katniss felt warm, a fraction of that heat Peeta always brought out in her. "Katniss, I love you. You know that, I've made no secret about it. You needed someone, I was happy to be there."

And again she felt guilt, for everything she did to this boy. _"I needed you!"_ she wanted to yell, but she knew it was false. Deep down she knew she just needed someone, Prim, Gale, Peeta, even her mother. But she was positive only Peeta could have soothed her as much as he did. Imagining Gale, she didn't feel the same way. She was happy it was Peeta, he understood her pain, he went through it himself. But it couldn't' have been easy on him, knowing she was using him like that.

"I know you don't love me Katniss, I understand that. I'm not Gale, but he wasn't there." Peeta stated, and Katniss could hear it. The pure hurt in his voice, not painful but resigned. Hearing that, seeing how his eyes lost their light as he said it, it struck her very core. She didn't know if she was capable of love, but she knew she couldn't stand being the one to hurt him like this.

"I was happy it was you Peeta. Gale doesn't' understand, he doesn't help like you do." She said, sincerity laced with care. She wrapped her hands around his, holding tightly to the last bit of warmth she might ever get. "Peeta, I'm confused. I don't' know how I feel about you, but I care about you. Gale is my best friend, but I don't know how I feel."

As she said it she felt lighter, her heart easier and shoulder less burdened. She didn't feel guilt, not as much, as she spoke. She was going to tell the truth, and she wanted to be clear. She was silent for a moment, looking for the words. She took a breath, her eyes closing as she calmed herself. Holding Peeta's hands, the warmth they gave, helped her. It felt as though she was channeling his mind, as if he was giving her the words to say. Leave it to Peeta to make it easier, Gale would just grow impatient, demand answers.

"Peeta, I don't know how to love." She finally said, honesty and truth evident. They locked eyes, but Peeta's smile meant she was saying something right. "I don't understand how you can love me, and I can't promise I will ever feel the same. When I look at Gale, when I look at you, I get confused. I love you both, but not the way you love me." She explained, and she nodded to herself how easy it came out. "I was never thinking about these things, I had to take care of my family. But I need you in my life, as a friend if nothing else."

"Katniss…" Peeta said, his voice barely over a whisper. His eyes closed slightly as he reached for her, running his fingers over her face. "I never wanted more than that."

"You didn't?" she asked, confused. Katniss was no relationship expert, but she was pretty sure that if you loved someone like Peeta loved her you wanted to be with them. A chilling though just went through her, did Peeta not love her? Her spine went rigid as if ice water flowed down it; was it a lie, she didn't want that. She didn't want to lose that love.

"I mean I did." Peeta added quickly, seeing the confusion in her eyes. Peeta pulled his hand from her face, running it through his shaggy hair. Katniss would never admit it, but she wanted to run her fingers through his hair, it looked so soft. When he spoke it was in an uneven tone. "I never expected anything else. I mean after that games sure, but when you told me it was an act…"

"Not all of it." Katniss repeated, and it was true. Even when for the cameras she remembered the feel of his lips. Soft, gentle, and warm. So different from Gale's, who even though only once was memorable, hot, rough and strong. She didn't know which she liked more.

"Okay, not all of it, but after that I didn't expect anything." He explained. "I know you cared, otherwise you could have let me die."

"I would never do that!" Katniss yelled, pulling her hands away roughly, glaring as if insulted.

"I know, that's what I'm saying." Peeta put his hands up to calm her, smiling at her temper. She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, but didn't look away. "I knew you'd come to me, or I'd come to you. I wasn't going to let another ten years pass before I talked to you again."

And he meant it, Katniss knew it. She would have gone to him eventually, either as mentors or to talk. And if she hadn't, well she never doubted he would seek her out. Whether to yell at her or gain her friendship she knew it would happen. But he didn't expect anything of her; she didn't know is she should be hurt that he doubted her feelings, despite the facts, or glad that he still wanted to be in her life.

"Oh…I see." She said, putting her hands in her lap. "I don't want to lead you on Peeta, not now, not when we have such little time left."

"Thank you Katniss." Peeta said, and then she felt the arms around her. He pulled her close, surprising her but the sudden warmth that went through her body. Her head rested on his chest, she heard his heart, it was the most comforting thing she ever head. Katniss hoped that once they were in the arena it was the last thing she heard. "I would have known, if you tried I mean. Thank you for trying to be my friend instead of my lover."

"Peeta, I would have, but I hurt you enough." Katniss admitted, but his chuckle chased away all of her guilt. This was enough, for now at least. Without leading him on she would allow him to move on, to make a worthy girl happy.

"You didn't…"

He was cut off by that sound of yelling, a door slamming as a liquor bottle flew through the air. The sound of it shattering on the wall made both tributes jump, Peeta standing with hands ready to grapple while Katniss reached for a nearby lamp. Both relaxed when Haymitch barged in, stumbling around and reaching for more things to throw. When he tripped over his own feet both ran over to him, Peeta trying to lift him as he struggled. In his state Peeta was the stronger, and Haymitch only calmed when he got a good look at them both.

"I fucking tried, please believe me!" he yelled, equal parts rage and sadness in his voice. "I wanted to get you home damn it! Damn Snow!" he yelled, nether sure who he was talking about getting home. Katniss thought he meant Peeta, Peeta thought he meant Katniss.

Peeta dragged him over to the couch, placing him down as he yelled obstinacies, trying to keep him steady. Both had no idea what he was doing, why he was so belligerent and angry. It took a lot to unhinge their mentor, and anything that bad was worrisome, as if the Quell wasn't enough to worry them.

"Haymitch, what's wrong." Katniss asked, truly concerned. She had never seen him like this; despite his flaws Haymitch was fairly steady in his moods.

"Everything! I got you back, I saved you both but I can't do anymore!" he yelled, his face flush with rage. "You did it right, you made a fucking show, but now…get me a drink!"

"Shut up!" Peeta yelled, so loud and commanding that it seemed form a different person. Haymitch was shocked from his stupor, both Katniss and he staring in shock at he normally passive tribute. Peeta was breathing evenly, but looked angry; his eyes tight and jaw firm. To Katniss he looked like Gale in a way, and she thought it made him more and less attractive at the same time. "Now Haymitch, I'm under a good deal of pressure right now. So please tell me what you're yelling about so I can understand what to do about it."

"Aint nothing you can do, Snow fucked you over, both of you." Haymitch said, pointing at the tapes. "Just saw the reapings. Was gonna tell you who to focus on."

"And?" Peeta asked. Haymitch just shook his head, his drunken mind not easily forming words.

"It's too good to be chance, Snow's a fucking genius." Haymitch says, his voice hoarse from yelling. Katniss could see Peeta's patience wearing thin, truth be told so was hers. "He couldn't kill you, would fuel the fire. Couldn't hurt your family, cause then why would you listen to him. So he used the Quell, made it look like it's out of his hands so people can't blame him." Haymitch says, both tributes now thinking he was just angry at the situation. He didn't stop though. "But now, he's damned you both, put the 'Mad Victor' in with ya'll."

That got them. Peeta's eyes went wide, his face paling as Haymitch said it. Katniss didn't understand that at all. Many victors went mad after they won, some before then. But the fact that a single Victor carried that title was odd. It wasn't until Peeta fell over that she felt terror. He landed on his rear, still staring at Haymitch, his breathing shallow. She rushed over to him, one hand on his shoulder the other on his chest, rubbing in some form of comforting gesture. She wasn't nurturing, but she didn't know what else to so.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" she asked, she truly didn't know. Every time they met a challenge Peeta stood to it, showing little to no fear. To have him break down like this, Katniss almost didn't want to hear the reason.

"Katniss…do you remember the 62st hunger game?" Peeta asked, his voice barely audible. Katniss racked her brain, but she really didn't.

"No…There was a lot of deer that year. The Peacekeepers let us slide on the mandatory viewing so we could catch them." She said. It was one of the few good years, Gale and she had not only made a good sum of coin to buy the necessaries but they were able to keep enough meat. She missed those games entirely, but she did remember them being shorter.

"That was the year Paráfro̱n Táv̱ros won. The year he was crowned the 'Mad Victor'." Peeta explained. "I don't need the tapes to remember what he did."

Katniss looked at Peeta, then to Haymitch, not understanding. What could a single victor do that was so terrible? Surely the were overreacting, but no. She was the one that overreacted to things. Peeta and Haymitch took them in stride, or at most with measured panic. She stood up, walking over to the table and looking for the tape marked 63.

"Won't help sweetheart." Haymitch said, looking at the ground, his hand flexing, missing the feel of a bottle.

"Better to know your enemy, right?" Katniss asked.

"Knowing that a fire will roast you if caught doesn't help you when you're in the flames." Haymitch replied.

Katniss thought that over, it was true. But comparing a man to flame made no sense. What person could inspire such fear in even Haymitch.

"That man I fear made flesh." Her mentor finished before getting up and stumbling out, mumbling about not wanting to vomit. Katniss put the tape into the player, sitting Peeta next to her and holding him. She didn't feel his warmth anymore, he almost felt like ice. Anything that could take that heat away from him, that was terrifying. She pressed play and waited, watching as the reapings began, anticipating and fearing what she would find.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Okay, so I'm new to this fandom. Now, I want to clear up a few things. This is not a romance story, though I will try to keep those themes in it. I plan for Katniss to be with Peeta, but it's not for curtain. Likely, but not curtain. This will explore more into the feelings of other characters other than Katniss, but shouldn't change the plot all that much. I'll let the story follow its own path, and I hope to update it regularly, but as I have so many fics I don't know.

Next time we will find out about this 'mad Victor'( he will be central to the story, but you'll have to wait and see why). I hope I did this correctly, if I didn't tips would be nice as to getting the personalities down.

So, Read, Enjoy, Review.

Until Next time, the King has left the building.


	2. Chapter 2: Hope Lost

I do not own the Hunger Games series, that honor belongs to Susan Collins.

Not giving a lot of time for people to review, but if you do read please let me know what you think. As I've never done this fandom before so any tips if I'm doing things wrong let me know. Here we good, the explanation of the "Mad Victor". To note, I'm not explaining the other tributes because they will not be scene again. It's a long one, no chapter will be this long again. I wanted to get his entire HG's out of the way while I know what I wanted.

**HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY**

**Chapter 2: Hope Lost**

Katniss focused on the video playing, her natural hunter's eyes scanning for any abnormality. But there wasn't. Peeta was still in her arms, looking away from the screen, color returning to his face but still lacking just as his eyes. There brightness had dimmed; at least Katniss felt they did. She wanted to know what could cause this, but nothing came to her eyes. She watched the reapings, but they were the same as always. Those in 1, 2, and 4 were celebrated while those from the other Districts were silent with bowed heads or looks of regret. That was until they came to District ten.

* * *

_**63**__**RD**__** REAPINGS, DISTRICT 10**_

_The girl was called, as usual, but she was nothing special. She was as plain faced, short dark hair and tanned skin, but nothing noticeable. It was when she called the male Tributes name that things changed._

_ "Paráfro̱n Táv̱ros!" the escort called out, and at once everyone in the District looked up, eyes wide and mouths agape. The youngest child to the oldest adult turned back, looking as the sound of chains rattling came forward. There, bound in chains, was a single boy. He was tall, just over six feet in height with a body of thick muscle. He wasn't massive but he was far from small with broad shoulders and strong frame. His hair was dark reaching his neck but disheveled, sticking out in places. It was clear none cared to make him presentable. _

_His clothing was a simple set of dress pants and boots, a collared shirt creased all around. The chains wrapped around his torso, metal bands around his neck and wrists that were tied by snort chain links. His ankles were cuffed, preventing him from kicking out, and four larger changes were attached to the central lick. These chains were pulled by Peacekeepers, each staying out of arms reach from the tribute, the two in front pulling, the two in back only moving when the chains went taunt. _

_As he went up the steps the girl looked ready to dash, fearful of this boy who looked at least eighteen. The escort was confused by this, being from the capitol she had never paid much attention to the Districts, only showing up once a year if, twice if the district won. So seeing the boy in chains was odd, but unlike many of her colleges this escort wasn't stupid._

_ "Let's dispense with the handshake, shall we?" She asked, getting nods from the mayor, the other victors, and the female tribute without question. "Right them, I present to you with the tributes of District 10!"_

_/_

_**TRIBUTE PARADE**_

_This year had lacked much in to form of creativity when it came to the stylists. It was pathetically standard by most Capitol citizens. They gave no heed to how the tributes felt, though they forced excitement and kept on clapping. One by one the chariots rode, the tributes waving, showing false love in their stereotypical garb. District one was in shining, embroidered cloth while 2 was in golden armor of an ancient age. 3 covered sheets of light, while 4 donned robes that flowed like water, and so on. When it came to 10 things were different. _

_The tributes came out, garbed in tight leather, a byproduct of the cattle they raised. The girl was in a corset, high leather boots reaching her thighs while a skirt reached her mid-though. Elbow length leather gloves so tight you could almost see the pours of her hands, and to top it off she had the standard hat of the ranchers. The entire ensemble gave her a dominatrix look, making her look far more seductive than her body actually was. Parafron didn't have a shirt; instead he had a leather straight jacket, holding him so tight you could see every muscle on his body, with pants and boots of equal grip, leaving nothing to the imagination. The jacket had four straps that were bound to the chariots handle bars, not letting him move freely. He also possessed a hat, but as he shook to get free it feel off, revealing his face._

_Both tributes were showed on the grand screens above the square, the cameras shamelessly zooming in on their bodies. The sick minded Capitolites no longer need to fake, the ensembles struck them deeply, enticed them, stole the show as it were. The other tributes from the career districts glared, angry that their spotlight was taken. The female tribute looked down, knowing that she was a target, but her partner didn't notice. Instead he was rigidly still, looking up at the Podium where President Snow stood. _

_His speech, well-practiced and tailored to the capitol crowd, came without much feeling. Those within the Capitol were stupid for the most part, but the tributes her hear it. It was full of indifference; Snow knew he had to say this welcome and give his thanks, but it didn't matter to him. Still, as he spoke he looked over the tributes, each pair one by one. To him it was nothing but a run of the mill look, nothing special to be noted. The tributes looked back at him, all forced smiles save one. Snow's gaze lingered, perhaps not more than a few seconds, but it did stop when he caught the eyes full of hate. _

_Parafron tilted his head to the side, matching his gaze with the Presidents, already hating the pure white rose he wore. He didn't look away, Snow could see the need to murder come from him. But it wasn't for the capitol, not for the tributes, but for Snow himself. A twitch was Snow's only reaction, before he moved on. No one noticed it, save maybe the career tribute. But Parafron, his eyes never moved. He eyed Snow like prey, not the president, not the most powerful man in the nation, but as a mouse or rabbit for eating._

_ "Find him…hurt him…fun times, yes?" the tribute said to himself, his voice deceptively light._

* * *

**TRAIN TO THE CAPITOL**

Katniss pressed the button to rewind the tape, stopping when it showed Snow lock eyes with Parafron. The tape showed screens highlighting Snows face and the immediate tribute he was facing at the moment. Her hunter's eyes found the twitch, the little mark of fear in his eyes.

"Peeta, did you see that?" She asked, pointing. By now Peeta was fairly normal, getting over the shock though he was still tense. He was sipping his tea, but if he gripped it any harder the cup would shatter. He wasn't looking at the screen; he had assured her that he didn't need to see it twice. She pulled on his arm, forcing him to look. He didn't get it, but he didn't have her eyes. "It's Snow, he's scared."

"What?" Peeta asked, not seeing it.

"Peeta, you didn't sit down with Snow, I did." She explained. "He never gives off any real emotion. His face is like a statue." She went on. "Here, his eyes are locked with…what his name? The 'Mad Victor'." She pointed, drawing a line between the two. "That twitch, it unnerved him."

"Parafron was the only person who never feared him." Peeta suggested. "It's hard to scare a mad man."

Katniss thought that over, and she found him to be right. President Snow had nothing to fear, nothing to keep him in check. There was no worry of rebellion, until she came around. Back then there was not a single person that Snow had to be worried about. She could see the pure hate, the wonderment and…she didn't know what else. The closest she had ever come to seeing a 'mad' person was Sae's granddaughter. Whatever was going on behind those blue green eyes she couldn't' truly understand. But she knew one thing, those eyes were the eyes she and Gale had, the eyes Cato had. Eyes Peeta would never understand. They were the eyes of a predator, a hunter watching its prey.

"Peeta, if someone could, even for a moment, frighten Snow…what kind of person is he?" Katniss asked. That little twitch, the little body jerk that could have easily been a fleck of dust in his eyes, spoke to Katniss more than any speech or shout. She didn't understand Haymitch and his angry burst, her cunning mentor so full of sadness and anger, nearly ready to cry. She didn't understand Peeta, confident strong Peeta, turning white as death at the simple mention of a man's title. Now it made sense, that little twitch showed her that fear existed in everyone, even Snow, and it terrified her.

"Katniss, you're a hunter. Gale's a trapper. You learned to track animals down, kill them to eat. Parafron…he was raised to slaughter livestock." Peeta said, looking at the screen. He didn't see what Katniss saw, but he didn't need to. He understood already. "But in the arena, it was like he was born to kill. I can't tell you Katniss, any words I have be enough."

Peeta couldn't look at her as he said that, he couldn't look away from his cup, now empty and cold. Katniss blinked, uncertain how to take that. Peeta held many things in her mind, things she loved and relied on; his warm embrace, he loving smile, and his words that could move a nation. For him not to know what to say, it was unthinkable to her. She looked from him to the screen and back again.

"I don't want to see this do I?" she asked.

"No, but you'll have to." Peeta lamented. With a sigh he put his cup down, patting the seat next to him. Katniss nodded and pressed the button. "The interview is next, and it's where his name started."

* * *

_**INTERVIEWS FOR THE 63**__**RD**__** HUNGER GAMES**_

_Caesar was not having the best of times. You could see it in his forced smile, the curve of his lips was far too tight. He looked at each tribute, asked the questions, made the crowd laugh, but none of them really wowed him. He wanted them to, he really did. To Caesar this was the last chance; these children were going to die. He always pushed for the poorer districts, he didn't approve of the careers. If they had to die, let it be fair he felt. But this year the odds simply weren't in their favor. Even the careers weren't that exciting. Those from 1 were airheaded, those from 2 were simple minded and violent, 3 were too technical while four lacked the beauty they normally held. Even his best jokes didn't help matters much, and he was only human. It wasn't the worst year; some were so dull that not a single sponsor donated. It was one of the closest hunger Games to be sure._

_When the female from district 10 walked up, however, he saw his chance. If not them all he would help one. She was dressed again in leather, but much more conservative this time. Her leather boots only reached her calves and she wore a long skirt, not a corset but a leather jacket that came just above her waist with a simply long sleeve blouse underneath. She didn't have her hat this time, but the leather was still tight, just not as tight. Her thin frame was not pushed out, but hidden, making any who saw her before think her a tease._

"_Hello hello!" Caesar called, leaning forward to welcome her. "Tell me, how did you find the Capitol my dear?"_

_She bats her eyelashes much like District 1 and 4, but there is a tone of cleverness in her eyes. She looks to the crowd, smiling sweetly but not over doing it, her gaze going back to Caesar when he asks another question. Her tone is playful almost, like she's enjoying it. She match's Caesar quip for quip, as if they were old friends commencing in word play. The crowd eats it up, loving how witty she is. Before long it's over, the crowd moaning as she leaves. She was easily the best entertainment they had that night. The crowd goes silent as Parafron is dragged in, two Peacekeepers with rods hooking into the metal collar he wore. He wore the same clothing as the chariot ride, this time the leather bands were gone._

_Much like the escort Caesar didn't know what to make of this, but he was smart enough to know that the tribute was dangerous. So when Parafron sat down Caesar moved back just a little, ushering the Peacekeepers away despite his sense. He had a job to do._

"_So, Parafron, may I call you Para?" Caesar asked, humor in his voice. The tribute from 10 tilted his head, observing the host._

"_Para…like a bird…I don't' like birds." He replied, his voice even and childlike._

"_Oh really, any particular reason." Caesar asked, looking for an opening. He could tell this boy wasn't right in the head._

"_Hard to catch, they don't' scream when you do. They beep, like little buttons." Parafron replied. Caesar gulped, this was going to be harder than he thought._

"_Well then, I'm going to assume you a rancher. Big strong boy like you, around all those animals. Think that will help you?" he asked._

"_Animals, the cows are fun. They don't' snap, they crack." Parafron replied with a laugh, looking at the audience. "People here are different, they smile at me."_

"_People don't smile at you back home? I don't believe that. Cut that hair, good looking boy like you must have the women lining round the block." Caesar joked, with an air of truth. "I know you made a number of ladies here 'hot and bothered', am I right?" he asked to the crowd. The resounded yes from the women, and a good number of men, confirmed it. Parafron looked to the crowd, a clicking noise from his mouth, like he was counting._

"_I don't like when they come to me. Not fun, play time is when they run. Red across the ground I say, that it the game we all play." The tribute said, smiling widely, looking as if he remembered. "A girl here, she smiled bright. Did that thing with your mouth, it felt right."_

"_Oh ho, a little romance before the games. I knew if when I saw you." Caesar teased, earning laughs from the crowd who seemed not to care about Parafron's odd form of speech. "I can tell you this, win these games and you'll get more than a little kiss."_

"_Games? We're playing Games?" Parafron asked, suddenly more energetic, bouncing up in his chair. His eyes lit up like stars, his smile so wide it looked painful. The crowd laughed with him, thinking it a joke. Caesar had a good chuckle, but it was good. This tribute was going to get something._

"_Yes Para, the Hunger Games." Caesar explained._

"_Oh, how do I win?" he asked. Caesar sighed, a darker topic, but nothing the audience should care about. He looked dead center into Parafron's eyes, and he saw nothing but honest curiosity. Caesar shrugged, there was no harm._

"_Okay Para here's how it works." He began, speaking slowly. "You go into the area, don't step off your platform to soon, and when timer finishes you kill everyone else. They'll be trying to kill you to, so be careful." Caesar explained, as simply as possible. Parafron laughed, nodding his head._

"_Kill everyone." He said, his voice strangely high pitched. Then, as if a second person appeared, his face want stone still, cold, his smile gone. "Like this?" he asked, his voice deeper in tone, before he lunged. The Peacekeepers were to slow, Caesar still seated with no way out, Pararfron faster than his frame would allow. His teeth sunk in, his canines larger than most, biting down onto Caesar's nose and pulling. So tight was his jaw that Caesar came with him, and spun, using Caesar as a club to knock away the Peacekeepers before dropping him. When Caesar fell to the ground he cried out in pain, tears coming rapidly as he inadvertently reached for his face. Parafron turned his gaze to the crowd, silent as the graze. No one moved, the only nose being Caesar's sobs._

"_Fun, more fun when they run." He said, a low chuckle coming from him. It grew louder, deeper, darker as he rose tall, head back and mouth wide. Hysterical was his laugh, blood coating his mouth from Caesar's face, his body shaking inside the leather bindings. The capitol citizens screamed, bolting for the doors as more Peacekeepers stormed in, but the laughter didn't stop._

* * *

**TRAIN TO THE CAPITOL**

Katniss was still, unblinking at what she just saw. It was so fast, so sudden, so unexpected. Parafron didn't look dangerous at all. He seemed like a child whose binding was so he didn't hurt himself. Some of his words were discomforting, not quiet disturbing but hardly welcoming. His eyes held a light, much like Peeta's, he looked harmless. Then, as if it was a switch, he changed. He became a different person entirely, savage and fast. He moved faster than Katniss ever saw a person move, and with just his teeth lifted a full grown man.

"Katniss, are you all right?" Peeta asked, but he already knew the answer. He reached over, putting his arm over her and pulling her to his chest. Her eyes never left the screen, watching as the crowd was calmed, Parafron was sedated and Caesar taken away by medical staff. The warmth and protection his arms offered was comforting, but Katniss didn't feel safe at all.

"Peeta, he was like someone else…a child then a…he was like an animal." She said, sinking into his arms, letting him wrap fully around her.

"I know, I know." Was all Peeta could say to her. "You can stop now Katniss, I'll take notes. I already saw him once." He offered.

Katniss was about to take his offer to, but she shook her head. Peeta was always thinking about her, always trying to make things easier for her. But this, she wouldn't let him go through it alone, not a second time.

"No Peeta, I need to see it." She said, and he dropped it. Right now, after hearing how final that sounded, he didn't feel like Arguing. "Can you…can you just not leave right now. I don't want to see this alone, not after what you told me. Please stay."

"Always." Peeta said, and from his lips it sounded beautiful. That one word, a word she only ever heard from him. It warmed her almost as much as his embrace, but she doubted it would prepare her for what came next.

* * *

_**THE 63**__**RD**__** HUNGER GAMES**_

_The arena was set at the base of a mountain. Several large caves were easy to spot, with thick wood areas all around. There was no visible water save small rivers along the mountain. The forest was split into three types, thick and lush to the south, dry and cracking to the east, moist and slippery to the west with the mountain being the north. _

_The tributes were positioned much like other games, but six were in a flat line with the tributes backs facing one of four directions. They had two options, stay in the bloodbath or run into the unknown. This time that unknown was decided for them, they had no idea if the direction was good or bad._

_The sun rose high, giving them all total sight, but not a single tribute was calm. Even the careers shook with nervous energy, eyes always looking toward Parafron. He, on the other hand, was bouncing on his feet, a smile plastered on his face, looking all around and waving. It was like a game to him, and likely the Capitol loved it. The timer was counting down, the ticking going like thunder in their ears. _

_Breaths hitched, sweat dripping down their faces, bodies like springs waiting. Parafron's head bobbed with each thunderous tic, his eyes looking to his left and right. When the clock reached four his eyes locked on his right. When it hit three he bent his legs and jumped. At two he struck, backhanding the tribute from the platform as he landed. At one the tribute landed, the mine under him exploded into a red haze._

_At zero no one moved, all eyes wide and mouths open, disbelief and shock in equal parts. At -1 a body darted through the haze of red mist, like a leaping dog Parafron flew. He grabbed the next tribute over, biting down into his neck, blood spraying out as the tribute twitched before Parafron tossed him aside. He let out a low chuckle, crazed eyes looking to the other tributes, body arched over and arms out, ready to leap again. _

_ "Ready to play?" He asked, and the frenzy began. Many of the tribute turned and ran away, forgoing any supplies in favor of survival, some ran toward the supplies, but it was the nearest that didn't get away. Whether the girl was going to run didn't matter, Parafron was upon her. He grabbed her arm, she spun to bunch but he moved to the side and got behind her, gripping her next and snapping it like a twig. He was charged from behind, her district partner attacking. When Parafron felt the impact he rolled with it, letting the force push him into a roll as the attacking tribute fell with him. He pushed himself up, spinning on the ground and slamming his elbow down on the other tributes throat. After a single loud gasp he rose, knowing the fallen tribute was dead._

_He surveyed the two careers from district 2, searching frantically for weapons. The tribute from 10 smiled wildly and charged, grabbing the male and lifting him into the air. The 2 tribute slammed back with his elbow, striking Parafron's face. He lifted the career higher and slammed him to the ground, pulling his fast back to punch his face in. The shine of a sunlight reflecting caught his eye, he looked back to see the female tribute of 2 stabbing forward with a short sword. He spun around, gripping her hand and pulling, stabbing her partners chest. Before she could comprehend what happened he pulled the blade free, aiming her arm up and pushing, using her one hand to stab clear through her head. He let go, watching as she fell over, giggling at the sight._

_ "Funny." He said to himself before he felt something impact in his arm. It felt like something cut him, entered him. Looking down Parafron found a throwing knife embedded inside his biceps. Tilting his head he examined it, pulling it free and watching his own blood drip. As he looked up he saw a terrified girl, no older than fourteen, with a set of knives in hand. She didn't even have time to put them on a belt, she just wanted to kill him at once. He waved, like a child to a new kid on the block. She trembled, pulling another knife and throwing. Parafron moved to the left, avoiding and catching the blade before chucking it back. _

_The girl jerked, her hands twitching as she reached for her chest. She felt around, her face growing more and more pale by the second. As she felt for the handle she felt he warm liquid around it, just the tiniest touch sent searing pain though her body. She removed her hand, not wanting it to hurt anymore, but not being able to move. Her vision was clouding; she was losing the ability to distinguish things at a distance. She didn't even notice Parafron approach her, take hold of the knife in her chest, didn't feel him pull it out, didn't feel everything just stop._

_ "Bye bye." He said, looking into her eyes as they went dark. And like that she was gone. She turned around, giving no heed to her, and looking for anyone else. There was no one else in sight, but he did hear rummaging. He dropped both knives, moving toward the cornucopia, the sound growing louder with each step. He wasn't quiet, but the person inside was panicked, clearly looking for something to help. _

_Parafron looked around the corner, watching the quivering boy grip a gladiolus sword. The boy was tall, but thin. Parafron put a hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh as he approached his steps slow and steady, silent. When he was right behind the tribute he poked him. _

_ "AH!" The tribute shrieked and spun, slashing downward with abandon. Parafron angled his body, narrowly dodging the strike as he grabbed the tribute's head and slammed it into the side of the cornucopia. _

_ "No fun, no fun at all. Sad, you not want to play." He commented, shaking his head. "Not your fault, you're not good at this game." He said, sadness clear. As he looked the tribute over, and looked to his cut arm, he grimaced. His breathing was slower, he sighed in despair. "Only those that like this game should play it."_

_ "Para!" A feminine voice called, alerting him. He spun around, finding a girl entering the cornucopia with him. She had olive skin, dark hair, with piercing grey eyes. The number on her shirt read '12'. _

_ "Beta!" he called, rushing her and pulling her into a tight embrace. "You're safe."_

_ "Yes I am, thanks to you." She said, kissing his cheek. He blushed, looking away from her with a smile. She looked around, seeing the dead body, and just shook her head. The tone of her voice didn't match the sadness in her eyes. "Thanks to you…"she repeated._

_/_

_Night had fallen, and around the cornucopia a camp had been set. The packs full of supplies were pulled together, arranged in a pile for ease of access. A tent, large enough for two people, was set up with a fire pit roughly ten feet away. It was long dead, but it didn't matter. None of the other tributes were going to approach even if the fired roared on. There were moans coming from the tent, but the darkness hit any shadows that would have shown the occupants. Aside from those moans there was no noise, not birds or crickets, nothing at all to give any sign of life. _

_So when the sound of a large clang echoed through the clearing it came as no surprise when the moans stopped, Parafron storming out moments later, looking around like a guard dog. His cloths were missing, but his body was shrouded by the night. His sniffed the air, searching for something. With another clang in the air he ran, his movements powerful, with purpose, like a dag chasing away a burglar. He blended into the night, his movement's silent, his breathing even. _

_As he stormed toward the southern forest there were shadows, brighter colors that would be easy to spot in any light. Disappearing into the trees like phantoms the figures clanged again, the sound no longer echoing to the air but rebounding off the trees. Parafron redoubled his pace, leaping into the mass of trees and rolling along the stone and twig covered ground. The stars could barely shine through the thick leaves; it was all but pitch black. Parafron crouched low to the ground, crawling along, only the barest sound of twigs to alert his presents. _

_ "Play, where are you?" he asked, his voice low as his hands gripped the dirt. He couldn't' see anything, but every time he sniffed his head turned, like a sort of radar. He turned slowly, listening for the crunching of leaves, the snapping of twigs, moving backward. "Come out, not fun if not here." He said, growing impatient. His face could just barely be seen, but his brow was furrowed, a scowl prominent. He wasn't happy now._

_ "NOW!" a powerful voice called out, alerting Parafron. He stood up, but the darkness prevented him from seeing anything at all. Instantly he heard the rustling of feet, heavy against the ground and circling him. Moments later he felt a scratchy material around his arms, engulfing him like a serpent and binding his arms to his body. He was pulled to the ground, slamming and being dragged across the dirt with a grunt. He wiggled, trying to break out, but he felt the bind tighten, like it was being pulled tight. When he tried to stand he felt a weight atop him, pressing him down, followed by something pointed at his neck. _

_He went still, the tip pushing into his throat, but not deeply. His eyes turned down, not able to see at all. Then he heard a spark, the sound of cloth burning as light covered them. Like the sun it brought vision, eliminating the darkness, both in sight and ignorance. Now the tribute from 10 saw those that lured him, three specifically. Two girls and a larger boy. The one atop him was a girl, the number 7 on her jacket. The other two shared 8. All three had odd orange tinted glasses on. _

_ "You killed my partner." The one atop him said simply, but she batted her eyelashes, licking her lips as she said it. With the light she was able to see Parafron fully, his muscular body, sparing a glace behind her. She giggled, tracing his abs with her free hand, keeping the object at his throat. "You're not bad really, if you were in my district…oh well. I don't blame you, but I'll have to kill you now."_

_Parafron looked at her, blinking for a moment before laughing loudly. The pitch was high, but tone low, a cackle more than a laugh. His body shook, and he didn't seem concerned with the pointed object at his neck. The girl above him grimaced, pulling back slightly as the other two backed away. Their faces spoke for them, confusion and fear apparent._

_ "This game, I play at home. Ropes better than chins, no lock to pick." He said, grinning. "But you forgot my legs. " The girl's eyes went wide, but it was too late as his legs shot up, his ankles wrapped around her neck and he pulled down, his body rising so his teeth grabbed the pointed object, a sharpened plank of wood. Her skull cracked on impact, a stone right where she slammed. Parafron was on his feet, running forward and ramming his head into the boy. The boy was staggered, Parafron reeled back himself, turning his head so that the point angled with the male from 8's head. Thrusting forward he point cut velar through, entering the eye. The boys scream was chilling, his hands reaching, grabbing the wood piece and trying to pull it out, blood flowing freely from his socket. Parafron watched, observing much like a cat, twitching movements with a smile as the boy screamed. The girl covered her mouth, unable to comprehend what her partner was feeling. She couldn't scream, she couldn't move, even her tears were frozen in horror. She reached one hand out, as if to bring him back._

_Parafron kicked his leg out, making the boy fall over forward, the wood acting like a nail on impact, driving directly into the boys brain. He stopped screaming then, and the girls hand fell to her side. _

_ "His screaming, not good screaming. Didn't change. Did he like this game?" Parafron asked her, still looking at the fallen boy. The girl just shook her head, not believing, refusing what she just saw. _

_ "She said…she said we could kill you…she'd help us…" the girl stuttered, stepping back. Her eyes didn't leave the boy, the tears finally coming. Her body couldn't be still, she had to leave. She spun around; her legs set to sprint away. Parafron moved after her, leaping and pressing his foot to a tree where he pushed off, hooking his leg around her head and letting his weight bring them both down. Her scream were muffled by his calf, she bit down but his didn't seem to notice. Tightening his leg and turning, his leg snapping her neck and silencing her. _

_The tribute from 10 listened, but none of them made a sound. When he pulled his leg off of her he put his ear to her chest, stopping his own breath to be sure. Nothing, pure silence came to him._

_ "No noise, this place has no noise. This silence is refreshing…but sad as well." He said to himself, standing and looking over the three bodies. "They shouldn't have played, why did they have to play. They needed help…she helped them…no. No!" she yelled and spun around, looking for the direction he came from, now wishing the fire was still lit. He ran, dispensing with any silence, his body moving like a machine, not waiting, not caring about anything other than his destination; panic in his eyes, and for the first time, fear._

_Following his instincts he reached the clearing, he wasn't as far as him mind told him. The stars and moon lit up the area, and he didn't see anything wrong. It didn't matter though, he ran to the tent, his body sleek with sweat from hi running. He tore open the flap, entering to see anything. He didn't step out for some time._

_In the sky, a face appeared. Olive skin with grey eyes, 12 next to her name._

_/_

_Two tributes were moving through the jungle to the west, searching for fruit in the trees. It was night now, but they were able to see thanks to odd glowing flowers. Any spot the moon touched those same flowers shrunk down, curling into nothing. It wasn't the entire jungle, but enough for them to see their way around. They were quiet, not wanting to alert anyone to their presences. 1 and 4 were on their shirts, one male and one female. In the distance they could see another path of, one their allies were supposed to be traversing._

_ "Can't believe 2 is out. Both of them." The girl said, picking up fruits and putting them into a pack. "I mean, they're the best fighters in the games."_

_ "But they aren't' broken." He boy replied, a curved blade out. He held it to tightly, not familiar with the grip or how to handle the weapon. "That guy from 10, he's got something broke inside. Training can't help you against that."_

_ "But how did he learn to fight. The most he should know is how to break a cow's neck."_

_ "Some people are just born to kill. How many of us are like that?"_

_ "But that vicious? Enobaria wasn't even that bad. She ended her games with her teeth. He started it with an explosion and shredding someone's throat."_

_The two continued to pick fruit, trained to go a few days without food they weren't affected by hunger yet. They continued to talk, worrying about the dangers of the jungle. Mutts could be any ware, and they would like meat. So caught up in their conversation that they didn't notice the movement of the large leaves. _

_Silently something stalked them, hidden in the darkness of the trees, above the light, looking down. Each movement was fast, only stopping when the pair below did, eyes trained. Not a sound came from the creature, even as it gripped the tree trunk, moving down inch by inch. The wind blue masking it's breath as it reached out, the tributes looking not up but around. Closer and closer it reached, it's limb not more than a few centimeters away. The tribute went to turn, the hairs on his neck standing, but the hand grasped._

_ "AH!" he screamed, but already he was whisked away to the tree tops, his screams muffled by the thick leaves and getting further. The girl spun to see him vanish, falling on her rear when the screams hit. She had no weapon; instead she gripped a rock in desperation. The light of the flowers had failed her, she didn't see anything at all save her ally disappear into the shadows. She could still hear his screams, but they were getting farther and farther away. _

_In minutes the screams were gone, but that wasn't comforting. Where ever took him had either killed him are dragged him far enough away so she couldn't hear. That didn't mean it wasn't coming back, but she couldn't move. Her mind kept playing over what happened already, on the first day eight died, nine if you counted her friend. The first eight from the tribute from 10, now another. While that was an average number it was never to one tribute, especially not in the bloodbath. They ran, losing two of their allies far earlier than ever before in any Games. The group split up, searching the jungle for supplies. And now she was alone._

_ "I can't stay here." She said, standing up. She looked to the distant light, she would have to run across it to survive, get to her group without being caught. If not then she died here. She took a breath, trying to calm herself. When her breath was deeper than her voice normally she froze. She felt hot air on her neck, and it was anything but erotic. Fearfully she turned her head, slowly, painfully until she found green eyes looking into her own. The creature didn't attack, instead it stretched an arm forward, something in its hand. It let go, the object rolling onto her feet. She didn't want to look down, but she had to. Her eyes darted down, flickering back up before she realized what it was. She turned her entire head down, and there, looking back up with an expression of anguish and horror, was her ally._

_She yelped, attempting to run but the creature grabbed her head around her face, pulled her off the ground and before she could yell it slammed her head into the tree. Pulling back it slammed again, and again, the strong bark of the tree becoming stained red. The flesh on her skull began to peel off, bone breaking and opening, a crevice forming. Her body twitched, her brain now exposed and dripping, bits of grey matter flying off until it stopped slamming. The creature pulled her now half empty skull to it head, sniffing._

_ "Not the one." It said before lifting the body up and running off, disappearing into the trees again._

_It was only a few minutes later when two others arrived. Two more tributes, matching numbers to the recently dead, ran to the spot where the girl was smashed to death. Both looked pale, eyes bloodshot and arms twitching, one holding a wooden spear and the other a simple knife. Both were panting heavily, body trembling. When the spotted the fallen head they shook their heads._

_ "So it was him."_

_ "What could do that? Rip a person apart and plant the pieces in a line straight here?"_

_ "Someone, no mutt is that smart."_

_There words were fast, shot tempered and fearful, disgust clear in their faces. Their legs quivering, jaws shaking, it was all they could do not vomit on the spot. Even if they were to face what was hunting them head on they wouldn't be able to fight. No training would prepare them for this, at least that's what it felt like. But whatever kill him was gone now, and they needed to finds a safe place._

_ "We're on our own now. Let's make camp."_

_ "Right." _

_The walked, but stopped when the head a clicking, the same clicking that was at the interviews. Trembling, pulling their weapons close, they looked up. There, perched on a large tree limb like a resting panther, was Parafron. He hand one arm curled, resting his head on it while the other hang off the side. His eyes were open, shining in in the slight dark above the light of the flowers. He didn't speak; he was perfectly still, looking down at them as a cat would two mice. It's a look they recognized, one they gave to the weaker trainees. But this look was different, if only just. Parafron wasn't looking at them like weaker opponents; he was looking at them as if they were food. _

_His face was utterly devoid of emotion, no smile, no anger, just his lips in a thin line and slanted eyes. It was more unnerving than his cackle. The girl rose her makeshift spear, but by the constantly shaking she wasn't going to use it. _

_ "They didn't run, they weren't fun. They knew how to play, but they didn't practice so they lost." Parafron finally said, his lips curving upward into a smile. "You will run?"_

_The girls breathing quickened, his eyes focusing on her, boring into her soul itself. She shook her head, her chest rising so fast it looked to burst. With a shriek she spun around, darting off and dropping her spear. The partner did the same, though she had a lengthy lead. Parafron watched them run, nodding to himself._

_ "They ran. Good. Let's play tag." He said, pushing off the branch and landing into a crouched position. He launched forward, his arms hitting down first and pushing up as his legs touched, and he was off. He followed the path, taking in breaths every few second, controlling his breathing as his legs pushed. The muscles in his legs pulsed, tension in his arms with anticipation. If his smile was and wider his face would tear apart. The light of the flowers illuminated him, showing off his impressive bulk and the pure energy put into his speed. His muscles were highlighted, now clade in the standard uniform but tight against him, no jacket this time, only the shirt, boots, and pants. _

_Once he caught sight of the first tribute he laughed out loud, the boy looked back for a second and instantly yelled out. His pace quickened his face flush with fatigue. Parafron laughed again, leaping into the trees, away from the light._

_The boy looked back again, but he didn't see anything. Just as he was about to stop his run, however, an arm struck out from the shadows. It missed his head by less than an inch, but was gone back a second later. He didn't stop after that, he just moved faster, but the fatigue and pain in his legs was obvious. He rounded a corner, but a great mass fell upon him. He slammed into a tree, falling down hard. When he looked up Parafron smiled down, arm back like a claw. The towering tribute charged, pouncing like a beast upon the career. _

_The boy's senses, dulled by fear, still kicked in and he rolled. As his body slid Parafron slammed into the tree, hooking his hand and sliding around it, his fingers leaving claw marks in the wood. The boy tried to catch his breath, but at seeing the broken bark he got up and ran, stumbling as his legs threatened to give out._

_Parafron watched him, ready to give chase, when he felt something wet on his hand. H looked down, his hand covered in blood with cuts and bits of bark within. _

_ "Oh right, I bleed. Forgot about that." He ran off, disappearing once again into the trees._

_Before then the girl stopped for just a moment, at a fork in the road. She was shaking, bending over to catch her breath. The sudden burst of speed tore at her legs, and she couldn't run any more without rest. But her senses were heightened, so when she heard her partner approach her from behind she screamed and fell over, pleading for her life._

_ "It me, it me." He said, falling onto the ground with her._

_ "Where is he?"_

_ "I don't know."_

_They didn't need to speak anymore, they had a reprieve for the moment. They listened, unnerved by the silence. It wasn't natural, and they knew how quiet their hunter could be. They wouldn't' know where he was coming from. So when he thundered in the were suitably surprised, and leapt up, falling over repeatedly as they tried to regain their legs. Parafron stood at one fork, forcing them into one direction. _

_They ran, slower than before but pushing with all they had. This man was not a man, but a monster. That was easy to see, and they didn't want to know what he would do to them. No longer screaming, but still terrified, they ran, never looking back. It wasn't like they had much to look back on; these paths had been constructed to be followed. There was no difference between right and left, front and back. All that looking back would do it show them that he was closing in. _

_But they had to stop eventually, and that time came when they reached an almost blinding area. The path the ran though stopped abruptly at a circular area. The ground was wet, but not a lake, with glowing ivy on the natural stone walls. These lights were cast on an enormous crystal structure, reflected like a small sun. As the approached it, getting a good look at it, they noticed that the structure was made of an abundance of crystal spikes, all merged at the base and growing out of the ground. The boy poked the tip of one, feeling the point cut him._

_ "These could be used as weapons." He said, taking hold of the shaft. "Go look around, here's my knife." He ordered, handing over his only weapon. The girl nodded and walked off, looking over the wall as the boy struggled. He pulled, shook, pushed, anything to break the crystal off. When he heard his partner approached he spoke. "Anything?"_

_He didn't get an answer, at least not immediately. Just as he registered that he felt his body lift up, a hand gripping his jacket and push him forward with force. He felt each spike pierce his body, but could not call out as one skewered his mouth. Parafron's signature cackle followed, then the pulling. He didn't feel it, his brain not able to comprehend anymore. The tribute for 10 dragged his body along the crystals, the constructs gutting him like a fish. His organs spilled out, intestines wrapping around the formation as other fell to the water and floated away. The light was no longer reflecting nearly as brightly, a coat of blood concealing and blocking it._

_ "NO!" the girl cried out, charging with her knife. She was alone, with no one to defend her or aid her, and no way out. Her only choice was to fight, and so she attacked. Parafron let go of the boy, leaving his gutted corps on the crystals while the girl slashed. They were wild, tired strikes from fatigue and fear. He only had to step back to avoid them. When she thrust instead he stepped to the side, grabbing her wrist and squeezing. A loud snap sounded, her hand went limp as the knife fell. He caught the blade and held it blade down. Pulling her to face him Parafron stabbed, the knife digging into her shoulder._

_ "AHHHHHH!" She screamed in agony, but it wasn't over. He held the knife steady, dragging it down her chest diagonally. The pain was so intense she couldn't move to stop him, the blood spraying in spurts out of the gaping gash. In moments Parafron's face was painted red, the blade cutting into her heart and coating her entire body in the warm liquid. Her screams didn't last, and soon she was only gasping, trying to pull any air into her lungs. But while her body tried, her mind stopped, her eyes went blank. By the time her lips were just twitching all color was gone, her blood staining the pool of water, her and Parafron at once. He let her go, she fell in a heap, silent as the jungle around her._

_Parafron looked at her, then at the boy, nodding to both. He stepped away, cupping water into his hands and cleaning his face. _

_ "Not them, they don't smell right. No one smelled right. Where is the person?" He asked to himself. He looked down the path into the jungle, ready to continue his search. But as he want to search he heard the sound of wood burning, he could smell the smoke. He looked up to the sky, but all he saw was the orange glow and an inferno._

_ "No, I will find him."_

_/_

_In the dried forest thee tributes were moving, each with a single pack, all of them carrying a blade. They were farming blades, sickles and such, not combat weapons, but in the area you could not be picky. They looked around, seeing nothing but dried trees and rocks._

_ "Sixteen cannons, sixteen faces." One said, a boy with russet colored hair. "It's only the third day."_

_ "Explains the fire. whoever was doing it was moving to fast." A girl responded. "Have to keep the games going. Must have tried to kill him off."_

_ "Him?" the last asked._

_ "That one from the bloodbath, the big one. You saw what he did, he killed at least seven there alone. And we didn't see his face."_

_ "But if we didn't see him now that means the fire didn't work."_

_ "Better chances for us. Eight left, and he'll take forever to get over here."_

_The subject of chances wasn't brought up, they didn't know each other and this alliance was temporary in any case. The fact that there was less for them to deal with only meant they were closer to killing each other. For now, however, they were content to look for supplies. What they had in the packs would last them a week if carful, but it was better to be safe than sorry. _

_They looked up, the sun was high up. They woke a few hours ago, when it rose, to begin their search. The second day they had spent exploring, not exchanging much in terms of conversation. It was uneventful, they didn't see anyone else. The third day felt the same, and they were almost done with it._

_ "It's been about 2 days since this started. In less than a day half the tributes died."_

_ "Let's not dwell on it. Split up, meet back at camp by night." The girl ordered. They all nodded._

_The russet haired boy reached a very open area; the trees were much farther apart. All that did was give him less to look at. But it was better than dying. So he marched on, looking for anything and everything that would help him. It took about an hour before he noticed anything. As he passed small hill he picked up the sound of ripping flesh. It was obnoxiously loud, followed by spitting every few seconds. Holding the blade tightly the tribute approached, slowly, trying not to make any noise. He climbed the hill, crawling when he got to the top. What he found was a tall person eating a fairly large lizard. It was the size of a cat, and very dead. He held it with the belly up, biting into the flesh raw, spitting out any scales that happened to get in his mouth. The russet boy saw the 10, but didn't' react strongly. Instead he moved back, knowing that he needed to move silently. What he didn't notice was the twitch of 10's head. _

_The boy picked up his pace, not running but not slow. He was rushing to his allies, hoping to warn them. Every few minutes he would look over his shoulder, paranoid of what might be following him. He didn't think to watch his front, didn't' expect the great hand to grab his face and hall him up. The palm muffled his voice, so any shouting was cut off. He struggled to get free, but it was futile. Parafron had him, and he wasn't letting go. Without waiting he slammed the boy into a tree, letting go and watching the boy hang. A single broken branch shot out, impaling the boys head. It didn't cut clean through, but the blood running along the branch and dripping down was enough to know he was dead. Parafron shook his head, turning and running off again._

_The other tributes never even knew what happened._

_/_

_The girl was on rocky terrain, having trouble with her footing. The trees were dense here, but all dead. No fruit, no water, nothing at all. She shook her head, wondering why they had come here._

_ "Of all the places we picked here." She mumbled to herself. Her stomach sang out, wanting to be feed. She glared down, annoyed with her own body._

_ "Hungry?" a voice asked her. She spun around, ready to slash, when she say Parafron looking down. His smile was even, he even waved hello. He moved to her, stepping from rock to rock with ease, like he had been born with the ability. She would have run, but after seeing him move around with such ease she knew it was pointless. At least she might be able to get a lucky hit. But he didn't approach her, Instead Parafron reached to the ground, grabbing for something. His tongue was out of his mouth, like a child solving a complex equation. After a moment he smiled and shot his hand up, a scorpion in it held by the tail. The girl fell back in surprise, never having seen such a creature. Parafron held it up._

_ "This tail is dangerous." He explained, pointing to the spot where he picked up the scorpion. In the little crevice between stones was a rat. It was average in every way, with its fur missing in clumps, bits of flesh chewed off. "One sting and you die. But there is a good side, one I learned from these rats."_

_The girl watched as he brought the arachnid to his face, angling it so the side faced him. The creature was an odd thing, small for one, with an oversized tail. A large spike was on the tip, barbed much like a bee, with a swelled shell along the tail. The claws had hooks, for what she didn't know. He opened his mouth, and then like lightly struck. His teeth bit down onto the body, between the claws and tail, crunching down as green juice sprayed out. When his mouth fully lamped down he pulled away, chewing and swallowing quickly while he tossed the remains. What was left still twitched, but before long it stopped. _

_ "It's not tasty, but it's filling. Let me show you." He explained, and bent down. His hands gripped a large stone, his legs tensing to lift. With a heavy he rolled it over, and the girl nearly fell over again. Beneath the stone was a pit, every single inch full of the scorpions. Collectively their hissing was loud and terrifying, they didn't' want to be bothered. But Parafron didn't seem to care. He was looking down, finding some interest in the pit. _

_The girl looked between the two, it would be easy. Parafron's back was to her, he didn't give her a second thought. She wasn't' a threat, he didn't need to care, and he was preoccupied. The pit was large enough for a person to fit in, and even if not the scorpions would surely sting him to death. If she was quiet, if she had a good swing, it would be so easy. With a breath she raised the sickle, stepping forward with some difficulty. He didn't notice, or if he did he didn't care. Closer, just a little closer and she would be safe. _

_Parafron was none the wiser, until the scorpions all hissed and shook, claws snapping. Immediacy he shot his arms up, catching the arms of the girl mid swing. He pulled; she went over his shoulder without issue, down the pit even more easily. She screams echoed , Parafron watching as the arachnids swarmed her. Each one kept stinging, pinching at her flesh and filling her with venom. So many had stung her that the venom actually leaked out of her wounds, but it didn't matter. She died in seconds, her head lying still next to the other male she travelled with. His body was heavily chewed; he'd been there for some time._

_ "Not them, who else is there?"_

_/_

_Both ran through the caves, night had fallen outside but within there were glowing mushrooms. The both from district 12, bone thin, and a girl for 11 equally tiny. They didn't have the stamina to keep it up, but they couldn't' stop if wanted to live. The mad cackle was following them, a tenacity so frightening in its pursuit that hope seemed a false word. The boy was guiding them, but he didn't look to have any more direction than the girl. The walls were carved smooth, there was nowhere to climb, and they didn't have any weapons to defend themselves. _

_ "Where do we go?" The girl asked when they found two directions. The cackling was getting closer, they had second to choose._

_ "I don't know." The boy answered, looking back for only a second before blindly running to the right. The girl took a moment longer to decide, a moment too long. A blade flew, finding her side and tripping her over. A sickle dug into her, curving into her ribs and hooking them. She fell over, gripping the blade and trying to pull it out, but she couldn't. It was stuck within her, and she didn't have the strength to rip it out. When Parafron found her he grabbed the handle and ripped it free, cleaving right through her bones. It was clean, so only blood left her, but she only had a few moments to lament before she was gone. It could have been worse. _

_Parafron turned from her, glaring into the darkness. There was no pretense of joy anymore; his eyes were wide, dark bags forming from lack of rest. He had been moving almost none stop for the last 2 days. He sniffed the air, but shook his head once more. He traveled down the opposite tunnel, looking for the last tribute he needed to hunt._

_He didn't have to go far. The tunnel was a dead end, and the tribute from twelve frantically searching, his voice coming out in whimpers. When he saw Parafron he backed against that wall, gripping the stone for dear life. The tribute from 10 looked around, up and down, before smiling. Putting his fingers to his lips he shushed._

_ "Shus, no noise." He whispered._

_ "Fuck you." The tribute from twelve said, defiant even in fear. His voice was loud, moving through the tunnels like thunder. Parafron shrugged and pointed up. _

_ "Got you."_

_The tribute of 12 didn't understand that, nor why Parafron turned to leave. So he followed the finger to the ceiling, and at once he understood. Incalculable red eyes looked back at him, gigantic bats looking down at him, ears twitching and focusing on him. As one the bats fell, diving for the tribute and biting into his body, draining all the blood they could. He fought back, but when he struck one off another latched on. Eventually it just looked like a swarm of bats, no sight of the boy they were feasting on anywhere._

_/_

_The moon was falling, the barest of sunrays starting to rise, and the cornucopia had one person standing at its entrance. The girl of District 10, holding herself and waiting. The camp was clear, the tent gone and the body with it. The girl just paced around, looking unsure of herself. She jumped when she heard the canon go off, screeched when the body of a girl fell next to her. Nothing special, just a broken neck, but the fact that she was thrown frightened the female of 10. She looked up, to her horror Parafron looked down._

_ "It wasn't her." He said simply. "None had the scent, not one." He explained. He dropped down, his hands gripped tightly. She looked dismayed, but not terrified. Resigned maybe, as she didn't run or try to fight. "That leaves you."_

_ "I know." She simply said. "I thought, I don't know what I thought. I wanted…" She didn't finish, Parafron and punched her. His fist impacted her stomach, tears filled her eyes as she toppled over. _

_ "Look at you." Parafron said, glancing down. "Broken and gasping for air. But you don't get to go yet." He turned to her, wrapping his hand around her neck and lifting, pressing her against the cornucopia. "When you admit what you did, when you see that hope is dead, then you will have my permission to die."_

_Their eyes locked, his serious, hers in realization. A sudden understanding came over her, even without being able to breath she was coherent enough to know what he meant._

_ "You…you would have protected us both." She said, but he gave no reaction. "When it was us three you would kill yourself, let us decide. I could have won…I could have won…"_

_ "Now you have my permission to die." Parafron stated, pulling something from his pocket. It was a set of purple berries, one they both knew. She opened her mouth, he put it in and let it happen. Painlessly, wordlessly, she was gone. Parafron didn't look up, didn't cry or shout, he was just still. The morning sun came upon him, but he didn't feel any warmth. It just felt wrong._

_ "Hope, what is hope?"_

* * *

**TRAIN TO THE CAPITOL**

Katniss's fingers gripped Peeta's shirt tightly, so tightly they threatened to rip. Her natural tan skin was a ghostly pale, her eyes wide. Peeta held her tighter, but she didn't respond. She couldn't' look away. The moment the games ended she was gone. Her mind was no longer in this world, but in a realm of fear.

_"Why? Haven't I suffered enough?"_ She thought. Her mind wandered to Peeta. "I can't…I can't save him." She replayed everything, the gruesome deaths, the inhuman ability, and it was true. She would fail, no plan, no desire, no amount of training would help her. She owed Peeta so much, but now she would never be able to repay him. She'd be lucky if he survived the first ten minutes. Tears were forming, and for the first time in her life Katniss didn't care if they fell.

"Katniss, I'm hear." Peeta's voice assured, his finger trailing her cheek, wiping away her tears. He stood to get her a cloth, but the moment his arms were off of her she grabbed him.

"STAY!" She shouted, pulling him to her and burying her head in his chest. "Don't leave!" she ordered, not willing to let go of him. Katniss always felt trapped, by the games, but snow, by her District, but she never felt helpless. She could hunt for Prim and her mother, she could fight to save Peeta and herself, she could use her position to protect Gale. But now, now she felt like nothing. The closest she ever came to feeling like this was that night Peeta saved her, and that made her feel so much worse. He gave her the strength to live; now she would be unable to keep him alive.

"I'm not going anywhere Katniss." He replied, wrapping his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back in a calming manner. "I'll still get you out of there."

"Peeta, that won't happen." She stated through her tears. Whether if was her save him or him saving her it didn't matter. Snow had removed any chance of either scenario. "If Haymitch and Gale were with us, full healthy and armed, we wouldn't win."

Peeta looked at her with shock, though it was for only a moment. He knew better than she did what they faced, he had seen it twice now, and for month s his dreams were haunted by it. Her doubt that Gale could help showed just how frightened she was.

"He's not human Peeta, you saw that. And he is vicious, even the least threatening died painfully. The best we can hope for is a quick death, but Snow won't let that happen. I'm so sorry Peeta." She cried, pulling herself closer to his embrace. "I hurt you so much, and now you'll die because of me."

"Hush now Katniss." Peeta said, shaking his head.

"No, it's my fault. I pulled out those berries, I started the rebellion. Now Snow's going to punish me with death, and with killing you. I couldn't convince him, I couldn't…"

"Stop!" Peeta yelled, letting go of her and grabbing her shoulders. He pushed her at arm's length staring into her eyes, a fierceness she never knew he had showing. She was frozen momentarily by his tone, she could do nothing but listen. "I made up the story, not you. Without me doing that they would never have changed the rules, you would have never pulled out those berries." He explained, slowly, letting it sink in. "I choose to be with you, I didn't know all this would happen but I could have left at any time. You can't blame yourself for me loving you."

"Peeta…"

"No, listen." He cut her off. "Katniss, we're here and we have a problem. We won't be able to live if you constantly blame yourself for everything. I'm here, I put myself here, I volunteered. I could have let Haymitch go instead."

His tone was softer now, but his grip stronger. His words, as they always do, make her believe what he says. He wanted her to know he was here because he wanted to be, and that touched her more than anything else. She didn't owe him, that's what he was telling her. In being here himself, of his own choice when he could easily not be, he was telling her she didn't need to hold any guilt.

"I'll never stop owing you."

"You owe me nothing." He assured her. He let go of her arms, tilting her head up by her chine. "Now, where the girl that volunteered for her sister, the first volunteer of District 12?" Where was that girl, Katniss wondered.

She felt so different after the Games, after everything. The girl who would do anything to protect her sister, when did she become to terrified. But, wasn't she assured death before? When she volunteered for Prim she signed her own death warrant. It was Peeta and his Plan and Haymitch that saved her. She wasn't afraid then. So Snow made arrangements for her to die again. She smirked, if she survived assured death once, she could make sure Peeta survives it a second time.

"I'm here."

"Good, cause I have no idea how to take that guy out." Peeta joked.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Long one huh. The basic premise was just for people to understand how deadly the 'mad Victor' is. He's a complex character, this was just to show what he was capable of. Now, to be clear, he is not invincible. He is broken inside, with natural combat ability. But he can die. If you have questions please ask. Let me know what you think of my own personally HG, bare as it was. Have issues let me know.

Another thing, the reason Parafron was able to get around so fast was simply hot stopping. People can do some crazy things when determined. His smelling was a delusion of himself. He couldn't actually smell people differently, his just his warped mind that let him believe he could.

Until next time,

The King has left the building.


	3. Chapter 3: Fear Embodied

I do not own the Hunger Games series, that honor belongs to Susan Collins.

**HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY**

**Chapter 3: Fear Embodied**

(KatnissPOV)

When I wake I feel the light on me, biting at my eyes to wake me up. I grunted, turning away and curling into the body that held me. The wrath of the sun was cold in comparison to the arm that held me now, arms that let me get even the slightest bit of sleep. They felt like a shield, strong and thick, cradling her from all harm. When I looked up I saw his eyes still closed, a smile on his face that I liked to think I caused.

After I had calmed down Peeta began to put the tapes away. He said we had done enough, for the night as ushered me to bed. Just as he was going to leave for his room I grabbed him, all but dragging him into my bed. Even with his arms around him I wasn't restful. I reach up, tracing my finger along his face.

"I don't deserve you." I whisper, knowing it to be true. He kept me safe at night; let me sleep a soundless, dreamless, sleep. Sometimes I wondered if Gale would have this effect on me, but then the guilt get to me and I hold Peeta tighter. It's funny, I never noticed exactly how Peeta smelled. He still has the scent of flour and dill, of sweet things like sugar and honey. It's then that I start to notice other things about Peeta. As I press up to him I feel the muscles under his shirt. I've seen them before, in the first games, but I've never felt them. Just like the rest of him they were thick, sculpted from constant work he did before the games, and especially after the training he put us through.

I didn't want to wake him, but I couldn't stop myself from touching his abdomen. He was hard as stone, how could his hands be so gentle when the rest of him was rock like?

"Katniss…don't' stop…"he mumbled, almost moaning. Then I felt something touching my leg. I didn't to look down, my face was already flush when I realized what happened. Peeta, my innocent Peeta, was having a dream about me. From his moaning it wasn't exactly a chaste dream, and my lightly tracing of the muscles along his body seemed to intensify it.

_"What am I doing?"_ I question myself, my hand darting away. I would have moved from him, suddenly wishing for the light to burn my eyes instead of this embarrassment. Peeta's arms were like steel, those once shielding now trapping me, making me feel him. I could have woken him up, said something that would push us apart, but somewhere deep inside felt that this was nice. I had never been like this with a boy, not for nightmares at least. When I feel him on me, though, I remember a year ago, when the snow fell.

Gale and I were in the woods as every day, but this time we didn't find anything inside our normal grounds. It was a desperate hunt that day, looking for any trace of life. We had found tracks, tracks that lead far past any distance we followed before. Of course we followed, it had been a week since we've had anything to bring home. When we found it, some type of hairy dear with gigantic antlers, we were beyond excited. The large beast would give us both food for ages. When I loosed my shot the beast moaned in pain, but didn't die immediately. My aim was off, it was hit in the neck. When it turned toward us we froze, we couldn't' outrun it in the snow. When a pack or wild dogs latched onto the creature right after we knew we had to run. But it was so far out that we didn't know any of the terrain, and we heard the hounds behind us. I found a cave for us to hind in, but we had to go deep, and the snow was starting to fall heavier. Light was diminishing; I knew we'd have to spend the night.

As it got colder, with nothing to warm us, I remembered my mother telling me how to stay warm. It was before my father died, I still don't know how I membered it. I removed my cloths, ordered Gale to remove his.

"Right now Catnip? I know I'm handsome but…"

"Shut up." I snapped, unable to look at him. I suppose I never changed in the way, I couldn't handle seeing someone unclothed. I know many girls would have killed to be in the same position I was in, but I was just uncomfortable. I remember Gales muscles, smaller than Peeta's but more defined. His constant movement acting like a crush to refine a painting. I remember him poking my thigh, and I remember squirming with embarrassment which only made it larger.

Without meaning to I started comparing both the men In my life. My Baker and my Partner. I heard girls at school, and in the seam, they had a number of admirers. The attention was well deserved. Gale had a rougher, more rugged look to him, tall with a defined body. His eyes had this seductive way, and when he moved it was like flowing water. If I had not been preoccupied with surviving I'm sure I would have fallen under his sway. Peeta, on the other hand, was shorter but thinking. His muscles were as defined, but they were thicker, giving more to touch. His eyes pierced your soul, and you his boyish looks made you feel safer. Gale may have been more mainly in appearance, but let Peeta talk for a moment and you were his. I wouldn't lie, Gale was better looking but his life had forced him to refine himself. If Peeta had to do the same I'm sure it would be the same.

The more I think on it the more I feel guilt, comparing both of them. I felt safe in Peeta's arms, at peace. When I was in Gales I felt protected, but it wasn't the same. That was survival. Gale wasn't as warm as Peeta, but he didn't confuse me nearly as much. But here I was, thinking of another when Peeta held me. I had no right, but I couldn't' stop themselves. Both these strong and handsome men wanted me.

I had both these boys, more like men, after me. Plain, average me. It didn't make sense, and right now I didn't care. I was going to lose them both when I died. They'd move on, Gale sooner than Peeta. That though ignited something in me, what I don't know. But it made me angry.

Peeta moaned again, and that was all I could take. I physically pushed off of him and shot out of bed. Peet'as eyes went wide as the sudden motion, looking me over with worry. His eyes scanned my face, I'm sure he could see how flush I was, before looking down at himself.

"Oh…sorry." He said, but any blush was noticeably gone. I watched as Peeta just stood and gathered himself. "I'll go get dressed, see you at breakfast okay?" he asked.

I only nodded, looking away from him. As he walked away I remembered out first games, when I had to strip him down to fix his leg. Just like now I blushed furiously, embarrassed. Also, just like now, Peeta didn't seem to mind at all. He had such confidence, but how could he.

"He must have been with a lot of girls." The thought annoys me for some reason. It shouldn't, I didn't get annoyed when I heard about Gale's conquests. But then again I didn't care at the time. Gale didn't see me in a romantic light, or at least I thought he hadn't. Peeta, for as long as I've known him, always did. I didn't make sense, but now that I think about it I don't want to imaging either of them beign with girls before me, Peeta least of all. His love was so pure, somewhere deep inside I wanted it to only for me.

Now I'm annoyed with myself. I don't know how I feel but somehow I didn't want Peeta to love someone else. With a huff I get dressed, I don't' have time for these silly feelings. If Peeta's going to live I need to plan. I have a mad man and a sadist to deal with. Two if you count Snow.

/

A few minutes later I enter the dining car. To say it's awkward would be a valid interpretation. Peeta is sitting, gripping his fork and knife tightly, his food not even touched. Haymitch was red faced, head in his hand and groaning in pain, liquor bottle in his free hand and threatening to fall from his grasp. Effie looked disheveled. Her wig was to the side, she didn't even look like she cared. Her makeup was hastily put on, clearly her prim and proper manners weren't at the front of her mind. She looked almost normal really. The Avox's around them were still, eyes devoid of energy or light. I didn't blame them for it.

"I didn't think it would happen." Effie is the first to speak, seeing me walk in. She looked honestly sad. We were her ticket to the top, I imagine her at big parties, her annoying and condescending voice high pitched in her element. I take some small satisfaction in her not getting that. "Parafron, everyone thought he's never be seen again."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna turn sober." Haymitch snapped. "He wants them dead, what better way than making sure a monster is after them?"

"But they were fairly chosen, it wasn't planned." Effie argued, I snorted. Effie, just like my little pets of a prep team, was an idiot. She was raised to think the Capitol was generous, caring, that it was an honor to go into the games. Still, she'll miss us. That nets her some of my sympathy.

"Trinket, you're an idiot." Haymitch just says flatly, looking back at the bottle, bringing it up to his to check it's contents. Effie huffs, but doesn't give her usual triad about manners. I don't mind, but I don't have time for this.

"Parafron is insane, sadistic, deadly, and borderline unstoppable." I stated. They all look at me, eyes wide, likely thinking I've given up. They're wrong. "But he's human. He bleeds, even if he doesn't feel pain. So, how do we kill him? What advantages do we have?"

They are silent, though not from thinking about things. I can see it in Haymitch's eyes, the same eyes I saw every day on the Seam. Hopeless, forlorn, dead eyes. He cared, in his own way, and it was killing him to see us go into this. But I don't need a broken, sad mentor. I need the strategist that saved Peeta and I. My glare seems to light something in his eyes, but not enough to move him. He stays still.

"The Capitol hates him." Peeta suddenly says, his eyes wide as if he had a light inside. He turns to me, a smile. "His games ended in three days. They didn't get a good show."

Just as he says it I can see a light inside Haymitch's eyes grow. The fire in us both flaring at Peeta's suggestion. Before he moves I see him stop, take a breath. Addled by drink he may be he still has some wits about him. He didn't see a sure chance, and that's what I needed. Peeta was optimistic, and that filled one with hope, but for this I needed someone realistic.

"He won't get many sponsors." Haymitch agreed, putting the bottle down on the table, leaning back to continued. "But you know he won't need them. When you look at what he's done you should know that."

"True, but he's going up against victors this time." Peeta countered.

"Yeah, and how many of them are broken like him?" Haymitch asked. "You're right, he's going in with trained killers, but that's what the carriers were. You can't count on that to save you. What you need isn't a lack of his sponsors but a gain in your own."

I listen to Haymitch explain, he goes on about how deadly Parafron is, how we can't count on the Capitol killing him. I take my seat as he continued, nodding as he went on. We had to make the people love us, not enjoy us but literally love us. How Peeta would do that I don't know, I wasn't going to convince them of anything. But the more he talks the more sure Haymitch sounds. It's not comforting like Peeta's words, but I see our mentor grow more animated, ideas forming. I was happy for a moment, cause I knew we would have a plan.

* * *

**TRIBUTE PARADE STABLE**

We arrive at the Capitol much the same way as last time. The citizens were swarming us much more though. I could see some other stations were the other victors received the same treatment. If I didn't know better I'd say these people cared about what happened to us. But I know that once the blood starts they will toss compassion to the wind.

As it were I was waiting by myself, dressed in my new costume that Cinna assured would make me shine like a phoenix. I don't even know what that means, but its Cinna. I know I'll look incredible again. Cinna, my Cinna. He always makes me stand out. I know I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him, he knew what people liked, he understood me to a degree. But no one but Gale or Prim will really understand me. Even Peeta wouldn't, he wasn't' part of my life till recently after all. That though saddens me, but it was true. Peeta loved me, but he didn't know me nearly as well as Gale did.

"I wonder how he is." I say to myself, and I do. Gale is my best friend, but my last memory of him was pain. His whipping affected me greatly, and for that moment afterward I could only think of him. Losing him, it was unthinkable. Peeta and Haymitch saved him, and for that I will owe them both. I can't help the scowl that comes to my face, I hate owing people and I will never be free of debt with them.

"Sugar Cube?"

My eyes snap open at the sudden intrusion. Before me I see what might be the most attractive man in all of Panem. Finnick Ordar, his tan skin shown as much as possible, some form of mesh net hiding only the barest parts of him to modesty. His eyes were fathomlessly deep, sea green and seductive while his wavy bronze hair swayed. You would be lying if you were to say he wasn't attractive, but for me he was lacking. He lacked Gales raw rugged features, his fierce eyes, or Peeta's loving gaze and warm build. Finnick was built like a perfect human, something I never cared for.

He was holding a sugar cube to my face, leaning in suggestively. The look in his eyes made my skin crawl, I longed for Peeta's pools of blue right now.

"They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares."

"I've never been one for sugar." I state flatly. I look him over, inwardly rolling my eyes again at the outfit. I briefly wonder what Gale or Peeta would look like in the same outfit, but I stop before I blush. "It must be cold."

"Oh they keep me warm enough in the capitol." He explains, though I can see the sparkle in his eyes dilute somewhat. He doesn't need to explain what he means; I've seen the women over him before. "You however, you look absolutely terrifying in that."

"I am the girl on fire." I respond dryly, hoping to get this conversation done with. Finnick was deadly, but far from the deadliest we would have to face. Peeta and I agreed that having him as an ally would be very beneficial; he was one of the few who might be able to kill Parafron. His sponsors loved him enough to make sure he was well supplied. But It didn't' seem like a good idea at all, considering I'd have to kill him for Peeta to live anyway.

"Yes, and you're going to burn us all to the ground." He laughs lightly, his bad joke grating on my nerves. He's moved back now, so I'm not as uncomfortable, but I still want to get away. "That fire must make Peeta enthralled in bed."

"What?" I stutter after a moment. I see the glint in his eye; Finnick is trying to tease me.

"Oh don't play dumb with me." He says in a knowing voice. "Young Couple, about to get married, homes to themselves. I can only imagine the things you have done to Peeta. Or that he's done to you. It's always the quiet ones, the unexpected ones that surprise you."

The more he explains the more blood I feel rush to my face. I had shared a bed with Peeta, and given what happened each day till we arrived I knew Peeta had those feelings for me. But now Finnick was pushing images into my head, images of Peeta and I, in bed, my hands rooming over my body with that gentle and masterful touch. I'm sure Finnick knows the effect he's having on me cause he continues.

"And your cousin, what was his name? Gale?" he asked. "He's an attractive man isn't he? I've seen the way he looks at you from the tapes. Not very family oriented. I think the Capitol forgets that people can look similar without being related. Ever bring him into your chambers with Peeta?"

I have no Idea how I'm standing anymore, my legs are beginning to buckle. Finnick has a way with words that would rival Peeta. I'm sure it's the subject manner, but I can't stop the thoughts from coming in. Maybe it wasn't only his words but my own feelings, but now I have visions of both Gale and Peeta with me. I can see their toned bodies, so drastically different that you would think there were different worlds. I imagine myself pressed between them, Peeta touching me, Gale licking me. My mind wonders to how they would take me, and I no longer compare them.

I shake my head, trying to free the thought from me, but I can't. It isn't until I hear a gasp that I open my eyes. Finnick is before me, host white, looking behind me. I didn't hear anything, but then again I can't imagine hearing anything I my state. It's only when I feel hands on my arms that I panic, like those unfortunate beasts that were fast enough to make me miss the eye and instead hit the neck or body.

Before I can comprehend I am hoisted into the air, powerful hands gripping my upper arms and holding me up like a twig. I am spun around, head dizzy, and when I gather myself I see blood red eyes, an almost childish grin with pointed canines, and pale skin as though sun never touched it.

I am looking into the face of Parafron, the 'Mad Victor', and I am seeing my own death hold me.

"Hello Girl on Fire." He says, his eyes unblinking, my own too frightened to shut. I wasn't ready, not for this, not this close or this soon. I don't register everyone else staring, don't' notice the Peacekeepers judge whether to approach or not. To me, there is no one else. Not Snow, not Finnick and his jokes, not Peeta or Gale, not even Prim. It was just me, and him. A girl from the Seam, and a man-made monster.

"Do you like this game?"

I can't move, I barely register what he says. His eyes, they are to ultimate combination of Peeta and Gale's. They had the intensity of Gales, the hunters eyes, but the soul searching gaze of Peeta's. These eyes were her worst nightmare, perfect in the opposite sense. His grip is strong, my arms begin to ach in his hold. He is silent after his question, and I have no idea how to respond.

"Para, Please out her down." Finnick pleads. Parafron's head jerked slightly, his eyes leaving my and glaring into Finnick. A growl more akin to the large felines of the woods than a human escapes his throat. I see Finnick back away slowly, hands up in a calming gesture. When Parafron looks back into my eyes his grin becomes a frown, I feel his hold loosen on me. His eyes search me no, all of me, and without the intensity he once had I feel more calm. Where ever his mind is it's not focused on me, and without anywhere else to go I decide to examine him. This was as good a chance as I would get.

He hasn't changed much from his games almost 12 years ago. He didn't look much older, his mid-twenties at most. I may have been wrong about his age in his games, but he was massive then and he still is. How he keeps his body when chained I don't know, but he is again in leather. His body was bulkier than before, and he looked taller if only slightly. He had grown a beard, a small one just under his chin but much like his hair it was disheveled. The leather on him was so tight I could see every single muscle on his body, and it was frightening to say the least. He looked like one of the bulls his district raised, I didn't wish to look down further than his waist for just that reason. This close, in his presence, I could really see why he was so deadly.

He was built like a beast, like he was made to kill. Each moment I looked him over I felt more and more despair. His body had no opening, no weakness for me to exploit. I doubt Peeta could hurt him if it came to fists. Right now, here with him, I just wanted softer hands to hold me, to get me away from him. I didn't want to see him anymore.

"No, you don't." he whispered, then he let go. At once his arms wrapped around him, pulling me into an embrace. My bones felt like they were going to break, his hold was so strong. "You are so similar, I wonder, could you be her reborn?"

As panic started to set in again I heard the stomping of feet, the tell tell sound of a metal leg. I only saw a wave of blond hair before I heard a fist hit flesh, harder and stronger than I've ever heard before. I was released from the hold of Parafron, and as soon as I hit the floor strong and warm arms held me, the arms of my boy with he bread. Peeta held me close, but his eyes were on Parafron who lay only a few feet away. Peeta's eyes held a flame I've never seen before, something I've seen in Gale, something that both seemed too have only for me. The feel of his arms, the rush of his attack, the fierceness of his eyes, it was exhilarating to me, but tempered by my panic of the man now rising off the floor.

Parafron rose slowly, wild grin on his face. When he caught eyes with Peeta he laughed.

"Fear, fear of loss. Do you fear me Peeta Mellark?" he asked. "This game is not for you, but you can play very well indeed."

"Hurt her and I'll kill you." Peeta stated, defiantly. I've never heard such intensity from him before, and in his arms I felt truly safe.

"Our Peeta, still don't understand anything, do you. It's not her you have to worry about." Parafron explained. "They are watching, out in the dark. Looking at us, planning, oldin's waiting, bridges breakin, wall's be fallin. My question is, when you're with him, will you know who's throat to slit. That's the game, a game you shouldn't' even be playing. Fire rises, snow melts. Remember that when we're in hell."

Once he finished his speech Parafron turned and darted off. I didn't watch where he went, I didn't care. I only wanted to sink my head into Peeta's chest, let his warmth and heartbeat calm me. He was here, despite his fear of the man he protected me. I look to him, knowing I will never deserve such devotion from him. But I can start earning it by making sure he lives.

"Katniss, tell me you're okay." Peeta asked, holding me even tighter. "I thought…I thought I was going to lose you."

"Peeta, I'm not going anywhere yet." I say, knowing it will help him calm down. I don't get up immediately, I just let Peeta hold me until we have to get on our chariots. But as he held me I realized something, something that was just as confusing as my feelings. When Parafron held me, embraced me, it was the same way Peeta was now, if harsher.

"He held me like…like he loved me." The realization hits me strongly, and as I look to Peeta I know that is exactly what it felt like. The Mad Victor held me like a loved one. He made me fear him, terrified me, then held me. A man that could change how oyu feel like that, it was more terrifying than a single beast.

* * *

**TRIBUTE PARADE.**

Peeta and I are set up, switches in hand to ignite ourselves. We await as the timer starts, signaling when the first carriage will go. I'm still in shock from earlier, only a few minutes have passed really. Peeta keeps his hand on mine, and it helps, but only so much.

"Finnick talked to me." I say, trying to get rid of the quiet. I normally enjoy the quite, but not now. "Asked me If I wanted a sugar cube."

"I figured he'd try and seduce you. I would." Peeta joked, and it brought Finnick's words to my mind. I blushed as the thoughts returned, looking away. I'm trying to figure out how to save Peeta, and here I go thinking about him and Gale at the same time. In annoyance I declare Finnick will be my first target. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." Peeta says, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "Haymitch says Finnick would be good, he might be able to kill Parafron with our help."

"I still haven't' decided yet. I don't know most of them." I explain, truly. So far I've only really spoken to Finnick, and I don't like him. Chaff, his kiss was sudden and infuriating. Peeta was the one to make friends. "I don't like Chaff."

"I know. But you should sit with us when we eat. He's not bad, and I won't let him kiss you."

"You know we'll be in the same room as Parafron." I counter. "I don't know how I'm going to get to know anyone when he's there, like a shadow."

"Be honest with you Katniss, none of us know. But if you want it to just be us, I'm okay with that. If it comes down to it I'll take him out with me."

"NO!" I shout, and I know it gets the attention of everyone. I glance down at my feet, not really embarrassed that why saw but with myself. I shouldn't act that way, but Peeta's suggestion bothers me. Today I was hit with surprise after surprise, and I hate surprises. Surprises forced me to grow up to fast, put me in the games, lost Peeta his leg, and now landed me in the Games a second time. Finnick , Parafron, Peeta, all surprises today. "I'm not going to let you die like that."

"It's my choice Katniss. I'm going to get you out of the games, one way or another." Peeta affirmed. "But, I plan to make it really hard for anyone to take me out."

That last bit made me smile, if only slightly. Peeta, as always, knew how to make me do that. It's something only Gale and Prim had been able to do in any real way. He motioned to the other victors, each one of them waiting, all dressed with light's. They copied us, but only a few make sense. My eyes are on Parafron, his is chained to his carriage again, but now here are large horns on his head, shaped like a bulls. I could see some sort of metal slots on his back. They looked out of place, but I that couldn't only help. I was wrong.

The other rode as every year, but when District 10 went out I felt my blood grow cold. The metal slots shot flame, arching out and forming a wall of fire the ran along their bodies. Parafron leaned back, calling out to the air, the fire cascading around him, covering him in shadow, making him look more like a monster than a man. His body was barley visible in the flames, The crowd gasped, children pulling back in fear as he thrashed. On the large screens he looked like something from a horror story, like he belonged within the flames. Peeta was speechless, I was struck silent, I was looking at a demon whose only purpose was to kill me.

It was only the jerk of the carriage that make me wake. I looked back, seeing Cinna give a nod. I nodded back, locked eyes with Peeta, and we looked on as if the crowd was beneath us. And they were. We pressed the switches that would ignite our suits, and the flames came. They didn't shoot out, but install curled around us, half around me and half around Peeta. The heat was wonderful, but did not burn us. Instead they flowed out like wings, rising higher and higher into the head of a bird formed. I looked up, seeing some mythical creature that was beyond my understanding.

When I looked to the screens they showed as, we looked glorious. Peeta and I looked like we were untouchable, as if our wrath would come down on any who would challenge us. I could just imagine Snow now, seething with what we represent. We are the fire he wanted to quench, and in his actions he's made us a beacon. His wasn't the only thing I could see, and when we were in place for the speech, fire still burning brightly, I know what the people saw. The monitors highlighted only two tributes, the glorious birds of 12, and the burning demon of 10.

The way it showed the battle was destined. Peeta and I looked refined and dignified, heroes from a story, while Parafron looked like the villain. I don't know if this was planned, but the fair around me and Peeta's hand on mine provided only so much confidence. As I watched the form in flames, the bull waiting to charge, I saw death itself. Today I learned what fear was, and how close it could get to me.

Today I learned that Parafron was fear made flesh, and everything I did was to make sure Peeta got away from him. To quote Effie, may the odds be in my favor.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

So, I'm not too happy with the end of this. The overall theme I wanted was Katniss thinking, her feelings on matters, and her finally meeting Parafron. There was only so much I could do with an initial meeting, and I wanted to show just how she would feel seeing him for the first time. I'm not that happy with it, but I'm not really sure how else to go about it either. In any case we're going to see more on people's emotions, feelings, and training next time around.

This chapter was Fear, Katniss's fear at seeing Parafron. Next theme is hope. I'm sure you get he pattern now. Forgive any mistakes, I've had a bit of a bad week so I was happy enough to write this that I didn't give to much thought to typo's. I've looked it over but likely missed a few things.

If you have any thoughts, any issues, I'm looking forward to it. Let me know, I'll be happy to answer.

Until Next time, the King has left the building.


	4. Chapter 4: Hope is found

I do not own the Hunger Games series, that honor belongs to Susan Collins.

I realize I made a mistake, and chaff Kissed Katniss after the parade, but as it's not important let's just say that before they had to prepare the Victors got the chance to meet and eat.

A shout out to fellow author femme11fatale. She inspired me to write this, and I thank her for that. If you want so high quality HG stories go to her. All her stories are beautiful, painful, so well written that SC herself would complement them. She's a little heavy on the Gale love but Peeta is treated well. She had a PxK, a PxG, and a threesome story. Give her a read, you'll not be disappointed.

(note, this is a corrected version. Nothing changed just tried to get ride of any errors.)

**HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY**

**Chapter 4: **

(PeetaPOV)

I watch as the people marvel at us, looking at the blazing lovers of District Twelve. This is my part, to control them. I see Katniss looking at Parafron, his disturbing body shadowed in flames. Her part was him. Katniss, my Katniss was a hunter. She was powerful in her spirit, a survivor, so much stronger than I could ever be. When I look as her is see not the flames around us, but the fire of a person that will never stop. She says she owes me, but she doesn't know how much I owe her.

But now is not the time for these thoughts. With what little time I have left I need to make sure these people, these bastards that relish our pain, love us. I've been told my voice is my weapon, greater than my fists, and I know it's true. I've always been an actor, looking at my mother with a smile as she called me useless, holding back my tears when she pressed my hands to a hot oven. I even nodded when she said she thought I'd die.

All my skill has to be here now, before these disgusting people, so that the girl I love can go home. I've never imagined myself as a person of sacrifice, not like this. But when I was willing to eat those berries, and now, willing to die so she can live, I get what my father did. He could have chased Mrs. Everdeen, but he gave up his happiness so she could have hers.

I squeezed Katniss's hand, her fingers already threatening to break my own. The cameras focused not on us, but the blaze around us, two fires merged as one. Snow fears the fires of rebellion, so he sends his own flame to choke ours. These games aren't about blood anymore. This is my territory, and I will make them love her so much they cannot bear to lose her.

_"You've made a dangerous enemy Snow. You coddle and feed them, stroke them like pets, play them to enjoy this show. You never thought they could turn against you." _I smile as I think this over. Snow thinks he's made the perfect game, set the pieces for himself to win, but he's given us power. Parafron is the villain, and people hate to see the villain win.

"I know it seems impossible, but I have you with me. I can't lose." I say to her. There is the smallest flicker of emotion in her eyes, she heard me but is so focused on finding a weakness in Parafron that she won't' respond.

"You won't lose." She stated, surprising me. "Hope is what we have Peeta."

"Then let me handle the hope. You can handle the bow." I joke.

"Thank you." She says with a smirk, her eyes finally leaving our enemy. "I can hold a bow."

Her attempt at humor is charming; she'll never know it though. Katniss, she has no idea the effect she has on me at all. They call her the 'Girl on Fire', and it's an apt name. Without ever trying she ignites something inside me, her presence makes even the cold night feel like radiant mornings. I can only guess she feels bad about herself, but for me she is perfect.

When I look up I see President Snow looking back. His eyes were on us alone, he didn't give a though to the others. I can't help but take a joy in that he's been in this position before, not as intensely, but still before. There is nothing he can do, we're here, we're out, and people are watching. I wonder if he knows how much he's jeopardized his own plans, his own desires. If so he doesn't show it, but you can't expect a man named 'Snow' to show emotion easily. Katniss had her anger, I had my love and passion, Snow had nothing but cold interference.

It's only when he turns around and we are leaving that I see a change. Katniss would have to explain it to me, but I could have sworn I Snow twitch. Was that all he could do? It doesn't matter, I have to talk to Haymitch as it is and I don't have time to wonder on Snow's reaction. He wants us dead, what more is there? I chuckle a bit, that sounded like Katniss.

* * *

**TRAINING CENTER ELEVATOR**

Our prep teams along with Haymitch and Effie are waiting for us. They congratulate us, Effie gushes about how dramatic it looked with the demon and phoenix. She wonders if it was planned, I look at Portia who gives me a knowing smile that's surprising, but I guess having to deal with Parafron would make his stylist vengeful against someone.

They bid goodbye, Haymitch walks off with Chaff and both teams plus Effie have errands to run. We're told to just go upstairs and relax, as if we could. Still we head to the elevator, avoiding the other tributes as best we can. They've all been here before, each one having something they want to do. There are several elevators, so we won't need to share.

"Hold the elevator!" a voice calls out, I see a figure running. Katniss rolls her eyes. She doesn't' want company from anyone right now. I, however, am always polite so I press the open-door button. Katniss sends me a slight glare, but I smile anyway. "Thank you, I hate running in this thing." Our fellow passenger explains.

When I look up I am met with wide set brown eyes, matching spikey hair with a tiara made of twigs around it. Johanna Mason, vicious victor that won her games through deception. I remember thinking her strategy was great, all things considered. My strategy was deception, of a different nature, but still deception. If I had to say any single victor marked me it would be a toss-up between Enobaria, Haymitch, Johanna and Parafron. I was going to greet her, but she spoke first.

"I am so jealous of you." She explained, though the tone of her voice was anything but. It was overly sweet. She gestured to the brown fabric covering her. It simply wrapped from her shoulder over her chest, exposing her torso and belly before wrapping around again over her hips. Her legs were fully exposed, and only one shoulder was covered while there were winding branches around one arm and leg. What held it to her I don't know, but it was obvious her stylist was trying to copy Finnick's theme of sexy. She wore slippers as well, but I think most wouldn't notice.

"My stylist is the biggest idiot ever. Forty years of trees. I know we cut them down but there's more than just trees in District 7." She tells us, sighing afterward and leaning back. "Wish we had Cinna, you both look fantastic. Or even Parafron's, that was absolutely terrifying. The Burning Bull!. Didn't think they would do that."

Her eyes are on Katniss, like she's examining her, testing her. Her tone is playful but not overly so; you could feel the thick layer of her words, laced with cunning. Katniss didn't notice it, or didn't want to.

"Cinna is wonderful. He's been helping me with my own clothing line." Katniss says, and I am happy I do the talking. She couldn't sound more bored, or more uncaring. Indifference would be better. I sigh inwardly, but at least there are no cameras. "You should see what he can do with velvet."

'Oh I know." Johanna replies, looking like a cat staring at a canary. "That little number you wore in 2, I just wanted to reach out and rip it off your back, it was so gorgeous."

I get the feeling Johanna would take a few layers of flesh off her to. This subtle hostility is unnerving, and I can see it's making Katniss uncomfortable. She looks away, fuming silently. She's done wonders with her temper. That's when I notice Johanna reach behind her, and see the cloth unbind. In seconds it falls, cascading around Johanna like water in a perfect ring. She is laid bare in front of us, exposed and uncaring. In fact she looks like the happiest person alive.

"That's better." She says after looking at our expressions, likely smirking at the blush we both share. She leans back on the elevator wall, having the decently to cover he breasts with her hands, my eyes didn't dare travel lower. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Katniss grow flush with anger as well as embarrassment. Johanna continues to speak. "You know, I've seen your painting. You're very talented."

"Oh, I dabble here and there in the bakery." I explain, easing into conversation. I've never been much for shyness, at least in the physical sense. It's easier for me than for Katniss, as odd as that sounds. "It's kinda all I do."

"Parafron would disagree." Johanna stated bluntly, though her head tilts to the side. I'm silent now; I didn't expect this. "Do you know how many people would attack him, and how many could hurt him?"

I'm silent; I don't have an answer because I honestly felt that answer was zero. Katniss is suddenly very interested. Johanna leans forward now, her arms inadvertently, or more likely purposefully, pushing her bests up.

"That takes guts, and stupidity. He's not so bad, once you get to know him." She says.

"I'm told differently." Katniss argues. There's a flash of fury in Johanna's face, but it's momentary and she speaks again.

"I know differently. He does take some time to get used to. But you Peeta, you were very…powerful when you attacked him. Katniss is a lucky girl." Johanna tells me, wiping hair out of her eyes, exposing a breasts. Katniss is now glaring at the doors, likely wishing they'd open. I know what Johanna's doing, to both of us. She's teasing us, like the others. But whereas she's attempting to annoy Katniss, she is trying to entice me. What she doesn't' know is that she's making me think of Katniss.

They are similar looking, though Johanna is more filled out and paler. Each sensual movement just makes me imagine Katniss. I can see her breasts, firm and pert, perfectly sized for my hands and as I grope them. My hands turn into fists as I try to control my thoughts, but I can't help the image of Katnis, touching every inch of her olive skin, running my hands over her legs, kissing her neck, down her chest.

"You're blushing Peeta." Johanna stated, and though I was the moment she stripped I know she meant at this moment. Her eyes darted down, I curse Cinna and Protia for letting these be loose cloths. I really didn't' have a way out of this, so I smiled.

"Parafron, he's nice you say?"

"Depends on the day. My advice, stay on his good side. Oh here's my floor." The indication tells us 7. Johanna smiled and walks out; brazen as the day she was born. She yells goodbye, I wave. Once she's gone I alone again with Katniss, but I might as well be with a raging inferno. She won't even look at me, but I'm not scared. It's adorable.

/

Katniss still hadn't talked to me by the time we reached the pent house. . She remained annoyed, her face flush with resentment. It was like looking at a child who lost an argument. Before long I lose myself, I burst out laughing. If looks could kill I know Katniss would have struck me down.

"What?!" she yells

"You, it's all you." I say, unable to steady myself.

"What's me?"

"Katniss, they're teasing you. Finnick, Chaff, Johanna, all of them are teasing you." I explain. Her glare intensifies when I mention Johanna. "To them, you are so…pure."

"I am not! I've been ripping your clothes off whenever a camera was around." Katniss yells, only making me laugh harder.

"They know that's a show Katniss. You're pure in their eyes. For me you're perfect, you know that."

"It's not like you're any different." She snaps, crossing her arms and looking away. "The way you reacted to Johanna's undressing."

"Katniss…are you jealous?" I ask. She huffs and begins to storm away. I don't let her, grabbing her arm and pulling her to me. She struggles, but I begin to rub small circles into her back and she calms down.

This is something I never expected. Ever since I saw her come in with squirrels the first time I was jealous. Word spread quickly about Gale and her, their trips to the woods. At first I only thought they were hunting, but I was still jealous of the time they spent together. When I grew up those thoughts changed. I couldn't help myself but imagine her and him, Tall chiseled, perfect Gale, hands everywhere, kissing, doing things I could only dream of doing. Even now I seethe when I think about it, even though I know they never did anything together. But here, Katniss was jealous of my reaction to a girl when all the while I was thinking about her.

"Katniss, you know I only think about you right?" I ask. She doesn't look up, but she stops struggling. "Katniss, you don't love me like I love you, but I do love you. Johanna, she just made me think of you, and I couldn't control myself."

"Peeta…I shouldn't get mad…I…"

"No Katniss, I shouldn't think about you like that in public. But I can't help myself. My self-control isn't' what I'd call legendary." I joke.

"Just…let me figure it out. We have these few days, I don't want you to think anything I don't know. Just tell me you won't go to her if I die."

"You're not going to die Katniss." I affirm, gently, but still affirmed. "And if something did happen to you, do you think anyone would replace you?"

"Peeta, don't say that. I can't…I can't bare it if you put me on the spot like that." She tells me, but turns around and rests her head into my chest. "Don't let me be the only one, you deserve more."

"Deserve? Katniss, since when have I gotten what I deserve?" I ask, patting my leg. The look in her eyes tells me she doesn't' take it the way I mean. "Not like that Katniss, just…no one could replace you."

"Or you Peeta. You are my hope, and I can touch you."

"Would you do that tonight?"

I know I've said the right thing when she pushes off of me and runs to our suit, blushing madly but not yelling at me. She likes to hold things, make them real, and she says I'm hope she can hold. It's hard not to imagine what she would do if she held me.

* * *

**TRAINING DAY 1**

When we get to training it's a simple affair. Only a few of the others are here, The morphlings, Brutus, Katniss and I. Katniss immediately runs to the archery station, having not had a chance to use her bow for some time. We agree to meet at the trap station at some point. Today is the day we talk to the other tributes; think over who we want to ally with. I don't know how the careers did it, forming alliances with so many people. I have to get to know these people, those with lives as hard and harder than my own, all pawns. And I would have to kill them or betray them.

"This color is nice." A weak voice says to me. I'm at the camouflage station, painting my arms to look like stone, when the voice calls me. I see a frail looking woman and man near me, the woman apparently speaking. They could pass for skeletons, cloths hanging off of them, eyes sunken in. "Can we paint?"

"Please do." I reply, and they both looked shocked. It was as if they expected me to turn them away. When I look them over I can understand. They are old, sickly. It's likely they don't get many to care about them. They pic at the paints, using each other as canvass. It's sweet; they seem to only have each other. They know they're going to die, they don't have any hope. Inside I feel a pain, a pressure that hits my very core. I can't save them; I have to ensure Katniss lives. They can't fight off the other Victors, except Mags or the old man I forget the name of. They know it's the end, they might even accept it. I won't find allies here, but I can make it easier on them.

"Let me." I say, using my brush to mix colors and paint flowers on the woman. She giggles, the man chuckles. They are having fun. It's all I can do.

Several hours pass as more and more victors arrive, everyone going to where they wish to train. Katniss stays to specific spots, I move around a lot. I talk with Chaff mostly; we both are handling the heavy weights. Chaff uses one arm with a strength that rivals both my own. I attempt to talk to Brutus, but he glares at me. Enobaria mentions he mentored Cato, then she ignores me completely. I see Katniss talking with Finnick and Mags, but she is unable to form real alliances. I already know she'll want the compassionate or weaker ones. She has more sentimentality than she lets on, and I love that about her. I tend to love everything about her, but some things stand out.

I keep moving around, many of them seem to like me. Cashmere is a little to affectionate toward me, Johanna felt subtle in comparison. I do notice that Parafron wasn't around. I don't know what that meant or if it mattered, I didn't need to see what he could do. When I finally get over to Katniss she tells me who she wants.

"Mags, District 3, and Cecelia." I repeat what she tells me. I sigh; knowing I was right didn't feel this good at the moment. "Johanna says district 3 is kind of a joke."

"And I care what Johanna Mason says while she's oiling up her breasts?" Katniss retorts. When I find said tribute Katniss is indeed right. Johanna is stark nude, oil over her body, rubbing it specifically on her chest. I know that's not proper for wrestling. 'If you try to go over there I'll hurt you."

"I wasn't going to. It's wrong; you put the oil all over, not one spot. She obviously didn't have proper instruction in 7." I explain. I was being serious, but the look on Katniss's face tells me she wasn't expecting that. "If she tries to fight like that she'll never get a hold on anyone, they'll slide off her chest."

"Oh…I learned how to make a hook today." She says. Her tone is disheartened, like she didn't have anything to offer or her knowledge was limited.

"I can't aim to save my life." I quickly point out, she smiled. She knows she can do things I'll never be able to. The last thing I need is her thinking she can't help.

Before we continue talking I notice a silence. When I look around every single tribute present and of sound mind is looking to Johanna. Rather to where she was. The tribute from 7 was now sitting at the side, looking put off, while the wrestling instructor was shaking, with good reason.

Parafron was in front of him, glaring, angry looking almost. The 'mad victor' was hunched over, arms at his sides, hands tense. It looked like he wanted a lesson. The instructor didn't want to give it, but I knew he'd be killed if he didn't. He'd be killed if Parafron wanted him to as well. I don't' know which is worse. The moment the bell rung Parafron charged. His arms wrapped around the instructor like a vice before he stood up tall and suplexed the man, slamming his head into the ground before falling down himself. Parafron rolled over, onto all fours and watched. When the instructor didn't move Parafron stood up, shaking his head.

"Are they not meant to teach, how can is head be so easy to breach?" he asked to no one in particular.

"They aren't as strong as they think. No victor won with anything they learned here." Johanna says as she stood up, grabbing a towel. "So happy I got a chance to wrestle." She stated sarcastically, sending a glare at Parafron. The mad victor surprises me again; he looks away like a child in trouble. I see Mags approach, I can't understand what she mumbles but Parafron drops down from the ring where she proceeds to whack him upside the head with her cane. He actually whimpers.

Someone laughs lightly, some Peacekeeper watching. Parafron hears him, and I don't want to see what he does, but I can't look away. His hand grips a weight right next to him, and he spins, throwing it like a ball. It impacts the Peacekeeper, cracking the helmet and crushing anything within. After that he walks off, huffing again like a child.

"He's insane." I stated, no believing what I just say.

"He's unstable. One moment he's a killer, the next he's a child. You can never know. We can use that." Katniss tells me.

"That's what you got from what we both saw?"

"He's my problem, the people are yours." She reminds me. I nod, it's not like I didn't know he was insane.

"I think Mag's is a good option now."

"And Johanna. But I don't like her." Katniss admitted.

We both wish to avoid this, I know that and so does she. The only allies we want are each other, but where that might have worked before Parafron now changes things. He adds a whole different level. I know Snow is watching, seeing how he's affected. I know that anyone who Parafron is effected by will be a target of the game makers. Any of them that could help us against Parafron will make us bigger targets. But Katniss is right. Parafron has his weaknesses.

"He can't balance when he falls backward. He doesn't' know how wrestle properly. If you can get over fear of him and he doesn't' surprise you, you have a chance." I say. Katniss looks at me oddly, wondering how I knew that. "Wrestling champ in my year. Plus Gale told me how to judge is something's off balance." That surprises her. She didn't know that Gale and I spoke when she wasn't around.

"I didn't know you talked."

"It was when we were training. You didn't want to be around me to much remember."

"I didn't like mean Peeta." She replies, looking away.

"So you like nice Peeta?" I question. When I see the blush on her face I can't help but grin like an idiot. I know two men just died, but right now I was getting Katniss to blush every few seconds. It's a nice feeling. "Katniss, it can just be us. I told you that."

"I know." Was her response.

/

Training fleet good. When we finished my entire body was sore, but I felt as if I was getting closer to my goal. I was getting stronger, if only slightly, and building alliances. I know Haymitch wants to talk about it, but right now I just was to get back to the suit with Katniss. After Parafron arrived things were pretty quiet, no one wanted to attract his attention. I noticed that he spent most of his time climbing, moving through the chains and polls like a predator. Any combat training he did was simply punching, and most of those punching bags broke. He disappeared at some point; I didn't want to look for him.

Neither Katniss nor I have decided on allies, that would be a major issue with Haymitch tonight. I'm hoping he's not drunk; it could get ugly if he was.

"You think Parafron will be at training tomorrow?" Katniss asks me. "We might be able to learn more if we watch him."

"Who knows. He's not exactly predictable." I reply. When we enter out suit we look for Haymitch. When he doesn't' show I assume he's still at a bar waiting for Chaff. With a shrug I move toward my room. The roof would be nice tonight.

"Speak of the devil…" Suddenly both Katniss and I spun, hearing the voice we both dreaded above all else. My body tensed, ready to jump and run, hands gripped into fists. Katniss was no different, though she looked ready to grab and throw. When we finally caught sight of him, sitting like an old friend, we both wanted to flee. Parafron, his pose lax, sat waiting for us. "…And I shall appear."

"Why are you hear?" Katniss asked, but I could tell it was with fear that asked. How did he get to this floor, come to think on it I didn't see any Peacekeepers around. Katniss didn't even have the safety of her room, limited as it were. Now she couldn't even run from Parafron here.

"Is it wrong to see my fellow players?" Parafron asked.

"Warning would have been nice." I answer, claiming my breathing. I'm at a loss for what to do. Parafron was not a person that you tried to reason with, so my words were useless. The most I could hope for was to be civil. Johanna did say to keep on his good side. 'Would you like something to drink?"

"No, not time yet." He responded. I have no idea what he means, I don't think anyone would. He stands, but I keep my stance even, loosening a bit. Katniss can't seem to relax, not that I blame her. She's been in situations like this, beasts on the prowl after her, and they don't move calmly. The only beasts I've ever dealt with were the mutts of the arena. Katniss had dealt with things I will never know, and now she is dealing with a man of feral cunning and human mind, raw might and savage sadism. How she hasn't run away yet I will never understand. I don't know what she knows.

"You struck me, opened my eyes." Parafron explains, hands waving out, leaning forward with excitement. "So many, they look so dull. Grey and monotone, unappealing. Here, people are different, but still dull. You, Katniss, you aren't dull. You have presence that they cannot fathom."

The way he talks is odd. It's a blend of childish wonderment and adult idealism. He reminded me of Portia or Cinna, or my Prep team. The way he moved, it was odd given his size. He was huge, but had a fluid motion. It looked like he didn't have any coordination, like his body didn't want to stay still, but I know he could be still as stone. His body, much like his mind, made no sense. Completely unpredictable and determined by his mood. For now I felt safe, in the next few minutes I don't know.

"But, if you are not dull, are you skilled? Show me. Show me just how powerful you are." He demanded, rising his arm high. Just when I think he's going to attack him his elbow impact the table, palm open and facing me, waiting to grasp. He's challenging me to an arm wrestle. "Katniss, hold are arms still, keep us steady please."

I look at Katniss, she looks back at me. I don't understand why he wants this, but it's better than him attacking me. I take a seat, gripping his hand as tightly as he gripped mine. Katniss held our hands together, letting a breath as we both tensed. When Katniss told us to go I instantly felt all the muscles in my arms scream. The raw force pushing against me jolted my arm to push back, and I put my will behind it. Parafron didn't appear to mind at all, but I could see his arm. His veins were pulsing just as mine were, shaking just as much, but whereas I grit my teeth and clenched my jaw, he gave nothing but a smile. I could feel the table begin to bend, unable to take the pressure of our contest, it groaned just as I did.

Neither Parafron nor I gave an inch, though our arms never remained still. But for every moment I tried to push forward, my arm went down. It was far from easy, Parafron didn't let up, but he wasn't able to slam me down either. He was stronger than me, but it wasn't what most people assumed. Why did he do this, show me this?

In that brief second when I wondered he over took me. I called out in pain as my arm slammed into the table, cracking the surface with a bang. He let go, allowing me to pull back and cradle my arm. Katniss looked over my limb, but aside from being sore it didn't look hurt. Parafron shook his head.

"You think too much. Stop wondering what others do, just beat them. You are good at this game, but not enough. So disappointing." He said, standing up with a sigh. As he turned to leave he stopped, pointing to the corner. There as a large pile of devices, none of them I recognized. "They can't see you now. No cheating. Bye bye." And with that he left.

I looked down at my arm, then at him, and again at my arm. I made a fist, making sure my arm was fine. When I looked at Katniss I saw her scowl, her normal look, but there was determination there.

"I can't break down every time I see him." She stated, locking eyes with me. "I can't protect you if I do." I stay silent, letting her continues. "Johanna and Mags know how to handle him. He's not invincible. I've been focusing too much on how deadly he is, I haven't been thinking about things he can't do. He's unstable, one moment a monster the next a child. He has issues with keeping balance when he falls back."

"He doesn't feel pain, he won't notice if something is fatal." I add. "And he's not the much stronger than me."

"I'll make sure I find his eyes. You make sure they love us."

"They will, I've never had to try and make them believe that." I state. Katniss looks at me, guilt flashing in her eyes, and I sigh. I stand and approach her, holding her in my arms, and I feel it. I only said it before, but I feel it now. Hope.

* * *

**FLOOR 7**

(JohannaPOV)

Today was not the best day. I was counting down the time till I would basically die, all for a girl. I'm willing to die just as much as the next rebel, but we were pinning all our hopes on a teenager. I wonder what they would think if I tried to be the symbol? Probably laugh at me.

"I matter to you bastards!" I yell, looking to the ceiling of my room. I know I'm being watched right now, but I never really cared. I've never hidden my hatred of the Capitol, Snow tried to make me enjoy it. I enjoyed that night, getting to shout and insult Snow to his face is a rare privilege. "Think's we'll all bend to him, fuck you Snow!"

I know I could die, I know I will die, but there isn't anyone to miss me. I give off a tough girl routine, speak my mind, insult and belittle others, and to be fair I am exactly like that. But it still hurts to know I have no one. Well, not no one.

"Thinking about me?" I heard from behind me. I smile, knowing exactly who it is just as his arms wrap around me, pulling my back to a hard chest.

"I'm not afraid to hurt you just because you're hot." I retort. "I was having fun today."

"He was groping you."

"Parafron, I can let who ever I want touch me." I finally say. His jealously may have been endearing, but I still got tired of it. "You don't own me."

I look back, up into the blood red eyes that were so feared. I remember when Snow changed them, he had to sedate Parafron. It was after I had met him, but that was a different story. His arms were strong, warm even. I wonder if this is what the 'Girl on Fire' feels when Peeta holds her. It's almost sickening really, how much he loves her. The concept of their relationship, I hated it almost as much as the capitol. What good was a relationship like that other than to make weaken you?

"Not them. Not them." Parafron says, nuzzling into my hair. Protective, that was how he was with me. We've talked before, he doesn't like when any one touches me. I remember when he first saw me. It was on my victory tour, and he was far from shy. He pressed me up against a wall and all but attacked my lips. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it, but at the time I had someone waiting for me. Then Snow happened, my pride happened. I had my own Peeta, and Snow took him away. I was broken after that, years passed before I was able to speak with anyone.

Just remembering made me grimace. I was so weak back then. Now, however, now I just don't' care. I still wanted comfort from time to time, and a warm body next to you was the best. I know Katniss keeps Peeta around, but she's going to lose him no matter what. He was just like…he was just the type.

"What troubles you?" Parafron asks.

"Nothing, just thinking." I lie, he wouldn't understand. Not like a normal person would. "How did you get in here anyway? Peacekeepers won't let us onto different floors."

I see him smirk; I already know I'll like the answer. He picks up the remote, turning to the camera that looks out the window. Each suit has a channel connected to a camera that viewed the city from our windows. It was only available late at night, when the blinds would be closed. Once the video plays I smile at how right I was. I see two Peacekeepers, the number seven on their shoulders, strung up from outcroppings by thick cables.

"Creative."

"I wanted to see you."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed. Enobaria and Cashmere busy?" I ask, knowing it would upset him. His brow furrows, I know I've annoyed him. He claims he slept with them before he met me, I know Cashmere was a whore so that doesn't surprise me. Enobaria was more surprising, but given how vicious they were I imaging hot angry sex was the norm. He even claims he doesn't sleep with anyone but me, I know he's lying. I'm his favorite, not his only. There are some things I just can't do for him.

"Johanna, you know I only come to you. At first I was wrong in how I approached."

"You called me Beta." I remind him. The first time we were ever in bed still burns, but it made me calmer knowing he wasn't expecting anything. It hurt that he was thinking of a different girl, I felt like I wasn't enough.

"You look like her. I didn't know better."

"Yeah, and I don't sleep with random guys back home." I know this annoys him more than anything else, letting him know I sleep around. I've never kept it a secret. But I get a sort of sick pleasure from seeing him like this. I like having this power, power over the second most frightening man alive. Well, Mags does to but that's because he's crazy.

"I went to see Katniss and Peeta." He says out of the blue. My eyes go wide at that, why would he do that? I've never been able to predict how he would act with anyone other than me. "Peeta is strong, and Katniss…she has that flame in her heart. She's like Beta, looks and personality. If I didn't know better I'd think she returned to life."

His tone is fond, longing almost. I can hear just how much he feels for Katniss, both of her apparent fire and her appearance. I pull away from him, hard considering how strong he is, and cross my arms again. The entire night my thoughts were plagued with Katniss, about how I would do what I had to keep her alive, how the rebellion wanted her, how expendable I was in place of her. Now the man that held me and made me feel safe was thinking about a goddamn seventeen year old girl. He reached for me, but I slapped his hand away. When he asked me what's wrong I snapped at him.

"I have my own problems, I don't' need constant reminders of that little bitch. I don't need to know how great she is, what she represents. I'm going to die in a few days for fucks sake!"

As I yell Parafron pushes me against the wall, arms on both sides of me, lips crashed against mine. For just a second my eyes are wide with shock before they roll back into my head, I let myself revel in the kiss, his lips hungrily kissing mine, his tongue reaching and tasting my mouth, I don't even care for air. All to soon he pulls away, but he cups my chin and looks into my eyes.

"I cannot kill her, you don't understand. But you can." He explains. "Everyone will be gone from this game, until it is you two. She cannot fight you close, she must be far. I will make sure it's just you two."

And there it is, his promise to do what I can't let happen. Parafron, my lover at times, friend always, has promised to die for me. To give me a chance to win, even if I have to save Katniss for the rebellion. This…I don't know how to take this. I've had lovers, I've been in love before my eyes were opened, but this is so much more than that. This was something I don't understand, he didn't love me. Not the way one would for this, and I have only one response I can make.

I grab his shirt, pull his face to mine, and speak.

"I'm going to fuck you, your dick will belong to me." I declare and kiss him again, pushing him to the bed. I trip one of his legs to he falls over, my hands still holding his shirt. It rips and tears, exposing his chiseled and muscular physique. So defined and hard, powerful and sexual, I had no doubt he had many lovers. But here and now, he was mine alone.

I traced the muscles of his belly, his body spasiming at my touch. When I reached down to his trousers I smirked and felt him underneath. Already he was hard, I such an easy effect on him. The sipper came lose, the fabric pushed away, and there he sprang up, half hard but just me touching him. I licked my hand, coating my palm and fingers with salvia before I took hold of him, slowly rubbing, caressing his length. He moaned lightly, clearly enjoying my ministrations. His cock was large, my hand having trouble getting completely around him. It was thick, growing more and more as I jerked his shaft. Normally a smaller girl like me would be afraid, but I wasn't any normal girl.

When he was fully erect I licked the tip, circling with my tongue. Parafron gripped the sheets, his eyes closed as he marveled. I kissed the side of his cock, sucking and licking every inch of his length. When he bucked his hips I opened wide and circled my lips around him completely. I moved slow, letting my throat adjust to him. I began to bob my head, letting him get deeper and deeper, swallowing as much of him as I could. While my mouth sucked him I caressed his testicles, his gasps make me suck harder. I moan as my head moves back and forth, the vibration in my throat making him reach for my head and push me down. I felt him twitch, signaling his release. Sucking as hard as I could I pulled back, the pressure finally pushing Parafron over the edge.

When he came it flooded my mouth, escaping my tight lips even as I tried to swallow every last drop. I gulped down, not willing to let go until he was done. Several second passed before he finished, at least ten spurts of his seed now within me.

"I didn't know you liked me that much." I cooed with a wink I crawl onto the bed, slowly moving my body atop his before I remove my shirt. I neglected to wear a bra, so my breasts were free. Parafron reached up, groping my one breast as I moaned. His hands were strong, kneading my mounds with force. I loved this about him, he wasn't gentle or extreme. He had a withheld roughness. "Is this what you wanted, to touch me like this? Did it anger the shit out of you to see me touched by that man? Were you pissed the fuck off?"

"Don't." he warned. I didn't listen.

"Go ahead you pussy, stop me."

He did, Parafron pushed up, flipping us so that I was on my back and he was on top. Both his hands now held by breasts, groping them as he pinched my pert nipples. He was good with his hands, I don't much care about how. He brought his head down before long, his tongue flicking my nipple as his hand traveled down my side. I moaned softly when he bit down gently, I was in heaven. But then his hand went to my thighs, just the lights touch to my entrance, and I froze.

I screamed, pushed both hands to his chest to get him away, my legs crossing as if assaulted. I wanted him gone, but he didn't leave. Instead he wrapped his arms around me, holding my back to him, letting me yell. I don't know how long I screamed, but when I stopped he was still holding me, and I didn't want him to let go.

"What happened, it still upsets you." He said. I nodded. "I punished him for that."

"I know." I snapped, I didn't want to talk about it. "Don't leave!" I demanded. Parafron didn't leave, he just held me tighter. He, more so than anyone other than myself, knew that I couldn't be alone . "One day, I'll be better."

"I'll make sure you have that chance."

And, even though I know it wouldn't matter, I had hope that I was going to live. It's funny, this man who embodies fear can give me hope.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

The end with Johanna will be explained in time. At the moment it's not important, but keep it in mind. This chapter was to show that hope exists. Parafron is human, he has weaknesses, and he is insane and unpredictable. I hope I conveyed that well enough.

Do excuse any typos or errors, I just wanted to get this out and will correct them in time.

As always, Read, Enjoy, Review.

Until Next time, The King had left the building.


	5. Chapter 5: Fear of a Leader

I do not own the Hunger Games series, that honor belongs to Susan Collins.

Not much to say this time. Just review if you read, please. Also, let me know if you feel I should change the genre or characters for this. Thank for reading by the way. Warning, if you're squeamish this might be a little much for you toward the end.

**HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY**

**Chapter 5: Fear of a Leader**

(Katniss POV)

On the second day of training I can barely focus. I have given up entirely on trying to make friends with these people. Parafron's appearance in my room was possibly the most terrifying thing I've ever felt. Not my father dyeing, not having to hunt in the woods, not the first beast I had to run away from, not even the night where I had given up hope. My one solace in the capitol was that I would be safe in my suit, with powerful Peeta and conniving Haymitch. Even Effie would be a meat shield for me. A disturbing term I learned from Gloss. He mentioned his career ally from 2 back in his games as one.

But in the games there would be no shield, nothing to protect me. I wasn't going to let that stop me. I had made up my mind last night; I wouldn't let fear overtake me again. Did I not fear peacekeeper and still hunt? Did I not fear the careers and still invade there camp? Even as I had my bow I failed to hit my target, my thoughts forever on the 'Mad Victor'. This time I didn't have Peeta to calm me, he was busy making friends with people we'd have to kill. When I looked to him I say that Johanna was still flirting with him, but Cashmere was all over him, literally holding him from behind, pulling him close to her chest. I know he didn't break away because he was trying to make allies, but he didn't have to look as happy as he did.

"He needs to put less effort into trying." I seethe, speaking out loud as I watched. Cashmere was obviously more filled out than I was, so much that I looked down at myself. A thin girl who nearly starved didn't really impress compared to a full woman from the richest district around. Funny, when I first saw her I was scared. She and her brother were polite, but I knew I killed both her districts tributes. I know Haymitch cared about us, but did she care for Marvel and Glimmer, was she even their mentor? Could she have hated me, or not cared, perhaps she was surprised I killed them both. For all I know she was doing this to Peeta to get to me, and it was working. Where I once felt intimidation now I was enraged, Peeta was mine. I may not have declared that to him, and I don't know how I feel about him, but he was mine! I may not have been as attractive as her, but I had the two most attractive men in my district after me.

When I loose my arrow it actually hit's the target, and in fact bores almost clean through. My pull was too tight, too rigid, but at least it was focused. I shook my head, annoyed with myself. I was never a girl that thought about such things. Boys, secondary in my life, my appearance even less so. I had seen Gale with girls and I never felt this jealous, but now I don't want to think on that any more than Peeta and Cashmere. I had enough to worry about without thinking on Peeta being seduced.

"Anger getting to you 'Girl on fire'?" I hear from beside me, a seductive purr I've become accustomed to. Not really accustomed, but tolerant of. Finnick stands next to me, smiling lightly, a bow in hand. I arched my brow at his actions, but he shrugged, bowing with a practiced grace unbefitting his size.

"You could say that." I reply. "What do you want?" I'm in no mood for pleasantries; again that was Peeta's job. Finnick smirks, this time not as flirtatious as always.

"I've come to learn the art of the bow, my lovely instructor." Scratch that last thought. "and I offer the gift of trident lessons."

"You want to learn how to use a bow?" I ask, eyes wide in surprise. He stands tall, confidante in his stance, and nods.

"Brutus and Parafron, even Enobaria are deadly up close." He explained, pointing to the other victors. "I may be good with a trident but these people aren't going to go down easily. Parafron especially. I'd like to keep my distance from him."

"I'm sure everyone would."

"From what I hear no. Our friendly psychopath is quite the ladies man." Finnick says, and again I am surprised. Finnick leans in, close to my ear. "He and I are rather popular here you know." He explains, and though his breath is hot I feel the cold tone. As he pulls away I see his eyes, they look a little dead, only for a moment, but it's just like before.

"You mean…him?" I ask. Finnick's nod tells me he knows I understand his code, and that Parafron was like him. I shook my head, it wasn't possible. Were the people of the capitol suicidal?

"I was surprised to, but when you have victors that are broken you get people with odd tastes." Finnick explains before moving to the archery station. "One hour, if you'll agree pretty lady." He says with a wink, with a playful smile. Inside I can't help but laugh, outside I only chuckle. It's like he acting the part, flirting but being goofy about it. It's so different from his other tone, where his tones were lower and eyes darker. Ii felt like Peeta, only not nearly as comforting.

Surprisingly I'm able to teach him, how to adjust his aim, how to mark and lead a target. He lifted my spirits, and that let me not only practice but teach as well. My gaze still went back to Peeta, Cashmere was stilling hanging around him. When Peeta saw me, how close I was to Finnick, he seemed to pay extra attention to her. My brow furrowed, I don't understand it.

"Cashmere's fawning over your lover boy, yes?" Finnick asks, drawing another arrow. When he loosed it he hit the target, but it was off. He was clearly made for close quarters fighting, but it was at least in a spot that would hurt. He looked back, again that smile turning into a frown. "She was loved you know, by the capitol. Many districts will think it was just because she won after her brother."

The way he explains that lets me know there's another reason. In truth I didn't even know much about her or her brother. She was never in my mind at all. Come to think about it I never watched her games. We pretty much stopped after Parafron.

"The Capitol edited something's, but her games were anything but violent." Finnick explains. "She's beautiful, and she knew that."

"That's how she got sponsors, like you?" I say, not really thinking before I stated that. I see him stiffen; he's tense with closed eyes. He nods.

"Yeah, like me. But where I simply looked good she did something more extreme." He said, sighing as he lowered the bow. He looked over at her, I don't know what he saw but whatever it was didn't seem happy. "You were too young to remember, but in her games she had the largest love story around. She's different now, but back then she wasn't the strongest career. In fact her score was low, and it was only her partner that kept her alive and in the pack."

I tilt my head, not quite understanding. Careers were trained, they weren't week. The strongest would volunteer if they weren't called. As Finnick explains it the story makes no sense. I look back, she looked strong enough. Not as strong as Enobaria, but still stronger than me.

"That's where her beauty came in. Whereas sponsors loved me, her fellow tributes loved her." Finnick says, and I spin to him, looking back and forth between the two. Love, the others loved her? Like Peeta and I? "Not like you and Peeta." Finnick clarifies.

"Then how?"

"I'm not sure how much love was involved, but I know they lusted for her." Finnick explained, keeping his face even despite the tone he now had, deep and sorrowful. "Before the entire capitol she would sleep with each male career, sometimes all at once. They kept it hidden from the other girls, usually those girls were out scouting. She basically prostituted herself for survival."

His words strike me, hit me somewhere deep. I had used Peeta's love, but to go as far as that…I can't even imagine. This woman, when she was no older than me, younger maybe, whored herself out. Her eyes, the lovely green that lacked light, were so much like those girls that went to Cray, my old head peacekeeper. All that just to survive, but she had to do it in front of the capitol, in front of the districts, in front of every man and woman, showing how desperate she was. And from the way Finnick made it sound it didn't stop there. These disturbed, disgusting Capitol people would…I don't want to think on it. It was no wonder she was fawning over Peeta, he and I were the new highlight of Panem. We would get sponsors from everywhere while she'll only get sponsors from admirers still in 1 and the Capitol.

"It's a clever strategy; I don't think she knew how bad it would get." Finnick explained. "She's not trying to steal him from you; she knows there's no way both of them can win."

"Snow's not a forgiving man." I state. As I look over them, my Peeta and this woman that would do the most deplorable things to survive, I can't help but die inside. I can't hate her; I can't feel anger toward her. She's doing what I did, and that's when something else hits me. I may have to do this.

Competing with the other victors, Gorgeous Finnick, lovely Cashmere, sexy Johanna, would I have to go to the extremes? This is not just a show about blood; it's about the characters, the tributes. Now with old characters returning, ones that would be willing lay before the cameras, would I have to do this with Peeta? Any focus I had, any desires I may have had, are replaced with fear. If I am to save Peeta I will have to sleep with him…to have sex with him. And when he thinks I love him, because my sweet and loving Peeta will not do such a thing without love, it will crush him more than I can imagine. This brings me another unwanted, fearful thought. If I win, Snow would do this to me. He already threatened my family, now he could do it again to force me here, giving myself to these wretches. And what if Peeta wins? He'll suffer the same. My grip on my bow tightens, so much that my fingers start to hurt, but I don't notice. My mind is overcome with all these images, all these dark thoughts

No matter what I do, I am trapped. Hope, something I've only ever gotten from one source, is so fleeting and gone. Around me was a sick laughter, blood filed my noise, my vision went white. My body shook with fear, and I suddenly felt everything, all the pain and suffering I was going to endure. Save Peeta and he suffers, live and I suffer the guilt of not being able to save him and a forced life under Snow. And even that seems like it doesn't matter because Snow will make sure we die. He will not want Peeta to live, knowing his words would make a rebellion possible.

"Katniss?" Finnick calls from beside me, and I feel his hand on my shoulder. My body snaps, my eyes are wise with fear, I feel like stone. He shakes me, but I don't respond. I am totally silent. "Peacekeepers are coming for Prim." He says loudly, pointing. Instantly my body reacts, I don't' think. My bow goes up, I see targets, I fire. Arrow after arrow, targets moving above, targets till below. All of them are struck, in the eye, all dead.

I only stop when I find no arrow, my head jerks, I see the pile next to me is gone and I have no quiver to draw from. For a moment I'm confused, then I look up and see ever target. The 'peacekeepers' were the targets. In my fear my mind conjoined images, and Finnick's words made my jump, all sense gone, just reaction. I looked over my work, death blow to the head, the birds targets above all hit.

"Reaction type, like I thoughts. Emotions usually get messy." He joked, eyeing all the targets. "You remind me of something, an old story…Artemis or something. The District 2 Victors would know more. You are beautifully deadly my dear."

"I didn't think about it."

"I get the feeling that when you think it's makes things worse." Finnick surmised. "My suggestion, stop thinking, let things happen. Have a goal, know it, and let your body do the rest."

I stared at him, he sounded so sure, profound almost in his opinion. Unlike the Capitol he didn't see my terrible acting. He could see that actions were my give, not thought. I didn't plan, I just did. My gaze went over to Peeta, and I found him and everyone else looking back at me, eyes wide and mouth agape. I blinked, surprised. I didn't think they'd be watching. I get the feeling I just got myself a few ally requests.

"So, our hours up. I believe I have a bargain to keep." Finnick explained, putting the bow down. He pointed toward the melee training section, specifically the tridents. Only two were on the rack, likely for district 4 to use. I doubted any other tribute would care to learn it. With a smile Finnick passed me on trident, and it was light. I was surprised by how little it actually weighed, my father's bow was heavier. But it was unwieldy, long and smooth. Finnick gave me a little space, letting me thrust. It slipped out of my hands the first time, and after that I put too much force into it and early stumbled.

"You need to be less stiff." Finnick explained. He then took the floor, holding his trident firmly, but not stiffly. "You see, a trident is meant to catch, not kill. While you can kill a man, the prongs are for hooking and dragging. We use them to catch fish, that's why they are light. Fish are fast."

As he explained he thrust, his body still as the three prongs went forward, stabbing imaginary fish or enemies. Like I did with the bow, he lined my body up, doing his best to not touch my more private areas. Arms the right distance apart to put your weight into the thrust, back firm and legs bent just enough. He told me to focus, my target would move, so precision and patients was key. This would be easy with a bow, but not so much when I had to use my actually strength. I have a feeling this would be better for Peeta to learn.

"Come on Everdeen, thrust." He ordered. I scowled, but did. He sighed. "Not like that. Harder, you need to catch the target." I thrust again, but he still wasn't happy. "Now you're to slow. The fish isn't' going to wait."

"It's either fast or strong!" I snapped back. He looked up to the ceiling and sighed. I'm beginning to think he got the better deal now. Suddenly I saw a twinkle in his eye. He walked over and grabbed a training dummy. After placing it in front of me he told me to trust again. I did, but he didn't look enthused.

"Better, you had something to target. But you put too much force into cutting him. A trident is not meant to pierce armor."

"I'm not fighting fish."

"Are you sure? How easy would it be for a water mutt to find us?" he asks, and he's right. I have no idea what I'll deal with, what will come after us. I may be an expert with the bow but this is different. When I did catch fish it was with a hook. "Peeta is drowning."

"Huh?"

"Peeta, he's drowning. His foot is caught underwater, I have to dive in and save him." Finnick continued, leaning in to my ear. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Do it!" he snapped, and I did. He continued to speak, his tone rougher, losing any form of calm and serenity, any seductive overtones. It sounded deep, serious, threatening. "It's just us, me underwater trying to free Peeta. A mutt is swimming, you can't see it fully. It's fast, gunning for Peeta, I can't stop it. You have the trident, you have to kill it."

"I would be in the water though, helping him."

"I'm the better swimmer, we didn't know about the mutt." He snaps. "Peeta will die, I can't save him fast enough to get away from the mutt. He'll die and you can save him. You need to be fast enough."

The more he speaks the more my pulse quickens. Finnick and Peeta are two of a kind, they can get you to see what they say, vividly as if it was real. With my eyes shut I see us, the three of us in the woods. I can see Peeta fall into a lake, and he can't get up. Finnick dives after him, but he doesn't see the mutt. Finnick repeats, again and again what's happened. Taunting me, doubting me, each moment. In my state I feel his words more than I should, my mind is frantic. Each moment I see the mutt move faster, see it get closer to Peeta. I see Peeta's head just reach the surface.

"You have failed, it's got him!"

Suddenly my eyes shoot open, my breath hitches, a rage inside me burning on fear. I thrust, the trident hitting the target again, but faster than before. I don't' stop there, I pull to the side, the dummy falling to the ground, gutted. My hands are shaky, but I don't let go.

"Good." Finnick explains with smile, the cheery voice back. "Yep, an action person. You need drive to succeed, something to make you act."

"Shut up and continue." I say with irritation. The way Finnick is acting reminds me of Gale. With a superior attitude when he was teaching me about snares. It was the only time he taught me something. Finnick even had that same easy smirk.

"Right then, well you know how to thrust but as you said tributes aren't fish." Finnick explained. "They aren't going to swim at you. Now a trident can be powerful, but it's no spear. Depending on the type of trident you have you can block, but the length can make it unwieldy for normal combat."

When he had enough room Finnick spun, swinging the trident around. It didn't flow like a sword did, it looked clumsy. Finnick went on to explain how swinging a trident was not something I should do, something I should actively avoid. The way he went on was that if you use the trident as a bludgeoning weapon you should stab right after, never just swing. If I could I should use the prongs to catch and disarm my enemy. Got for the legs to trip them up. Being that it wasn't really meant as a weapon there weren't particular forms like with a sword. Still, some things were universal in pole arms, and Finnick ran me through the basics. I didn't like it.

My body had to twist in ways that were uncomfortable, faster than with my bow, and I could feel my muscles pull unhappily. I may have been training before this, but my body wasn't used to this type of movement. At the rate I was going it would take me a week at least to adapt to this. Still I persevered, knowing that this could save me. When the hour was finally up Finnick gave me one more piece of advice, a final lesson as it were.

"Now everything I've taught you, comes to nothing." He said. I scowled at him, but he chuckled. "In the arena you can't think to specialize a weapon, not this soon at any rate. Weapons have been used in ways that aren't intended, I fully expect you to swing it around and knock the back end into a nose. Don't be afraid to go against what you know."

"So what was the point of teaching me?"

"A bargain is a bargain." Finnick quipped, pointing a finger at me. "It's something we all have to learn here." And with that he walked away, putting his trident on the stand. I could sense a hidden meaning in his words, but I was tired of thinking. Thinking only brought me back to how completely and totally I was doomed. I looked around again, seeing that everyone was still training. I gripped the trident and thrust, I may never be goo with it, but I was going to learn how to use it. It's funny, holding a weapon can really make you feel that fear is gone, if only slightly.

* * *

**LEVEL 12, AT DINNER**

Peeta and I sat at dinner, I was still uncomfortable with the Avoxs. I know Snow put them there to get to me, and while I at first tried to be kind to them Peeta talked me out of it. Snow would hurt them if he knew, and he would use them to hurt me again. It seems like everyone I touched was hurt.

"So, you two apparently impressed people." Haymitch explains, sober enough to be coherent. Odd really, but then again he seemed to keep himself steady after his outburst on the train. "I've gotten a good number of requests for an alliance. Some for Peeta, some for Katniss. Cashmere was very interested; I'd stay away from her."

"I'm not stupid Haymitch." Peeta replied, looking down with a blush. "Do you know how uncomfortable it was, having her all over me like that?"

"You looked pretty happy pressed against her chest." I stated, and Peeta's eyes went wide, his blush getting deeper. Haymitch made a laugh, a loud one, and I couldn't help but chuckle to. It's rare to see Peeta shy and flustered. It suits him I think.

"I was just trying to make allies." Peeta replies, his blush lessening when he hears my laugh. "You seemed chummy with Finnick. He a keeper?"

"Doubtful. He was teaching me how to use trident in exchange for bow training." I replied. "You know I like District 3, Mags, and Cecilla."

"Of course you do. I'll tell them you haven't decided. But a tip sweetheart, pick soon. Last thing you need is to be alone with Peeta while some of the deadliest people are after you." Haymitch advises.

I know he's right, and I know my decisions are poor ones, but I still don't enjoy how he dismisses them. The rest of dinner is a quiet affair, until Effie makes a comment about how I need to act more presentable. According to her I haven't been very lady like and a cold shoulder would lead to less sponsors.

"I could be the nicest person alive; Snow will still try and kill me. So shut up about manners, they are useless just like you!" I snap. Once the words leave my mouth the quiet turns to silence, but I don't' regret my words. It's true, Effie is useless. She has done nothing to help up, save trying to make me more ladylike, and Cinna did a better job. And now, when I'm going to my death, she feels that manners will help. This is the Capitol; she's an idiot to think they care about anything other than bloodshed. She politely excuses herself, but I can see the hurt in her face. I feel a moment of quilt, but that is all. I don't have time to feel guilt.

"Well, that could have gone better." Haymitch says, taking one last swig before rising and walking off by himself. Peeta and I were left alone. He is just staring at me, not angry or judgmental, a hit of worry but that's all. However I don't know how to read people, so I could be wrong in my assumption. I don't know what to say to him, I rarely did. He's the one with the words, not me. Gale and I need few, if any, words to talk. We've known each other for so long it's easy to guess what we think. Until the day Gale admitted he loved me anyway. But with Peeta I don't know. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but his thoughts are alien to me. He loves me, that's about all I can usually gather from him at any time.

"So, we finally got rid of Effie." Peeta says. "I won't lie, I wanted to say that for a while now, but she kind of grew on me."

I wasn't expecting that.

"I'm tired of her." I explain, and Peeta smiles at me. He reaches a hand for me, and I let him encase my own. "I'm scared Peeta. Not just of the Games. No matter what, Snow can hurt us. If you escape he'll still punish you, use you like he use's everyone. The same will happen to me."

"He can't, not if the people love us enough." Peeta explained, his grip growing stronger. "Katniss, Snow may want us dead but he has to follow the Capitol. If they love us he can't do anything to us. He's already got the entire nation, district and capitol alike, glaring at him. If he makes enough people unhappy He'll lose everything. Peacekeepers aren't machines, you know that. They will side with power."

"Peeta, Snow commands with fear. If he push's enough he'll make them back down."

"Then we push back. We give everyone a love story; we make them see just how barbaric this is. You think any capitol citizen save Snow's inner circle know what it's like out there?" he asks, point in a vague direction. I know he mean's the districts. "If they cared enough they would know. Snow can't kill them all."

"Peeta, you don't understand." I try to convince him, I don't want to tell him what Snow can do. My Peeta is pure, even with a missing leg and having killed in the first games, he is still pure. Looking at him, this close, his hand on mine, the heat and love I know comes from it, I feel nothing but guilt. If I die he is free, Snow has no reason to harm Peeta, my death will break him enough. I suddenly stand up and throw myself into his arms, begging for the warmth. When his arms circle me, when he nestles into my hair, and feel a breath of relief. "We will get the deadliest tributes to join us. We will make the Snow fear us, just how far we will go to oppose him. He fears what we did, what we can do. And now, I will make him fear his own actions."

"Katniss…"

"Peeta, shut up." I demand. I don't want his words now. I just want his warmth. His words can come later, when he looks into Snow's eyes after winning. Snow fears, that's why he acts. My actions will give someone who Snow can't control. If I die, Peeta will not have a reason to hold back. And Snow will be there, just the two of them, and last time I checked snow can be crushed under the hands that play with fire.

* * *

**PRESIDENTIAL MANSION(3****RD**** PERSON POV)**

President Snow was not happy, though honestly he rarely seemed to be. Few could claim to have ever seen the man smile, and that was apparent now. He marched through the marble halls, decorated with something from ever district. He even had coal heaters installed as a backup in case of a power shortage. He was a paranoid man, and it got him far in his life. Today he wasn't enjoying his home, he moved with purpose, some sort of assistant following him. Peacekeepers were at every corner, removing his need to personal bodyguards.

"Where is Romulus Thread?" he asked his assistant. "He was supposed to meet me in the dining hall twenty minutes ago."

"I'm not sure sir. We know he arrived in the Capitol today." The assistant explained. When Snow stopped suddenly the assistant grew pale, eyes wide in fear. Snow turned to him, but his face held no rage. When he spoke it was with a calm tone.

"You value your position yes?" he asked. The assistant nodded. "Well, I suggest you find him at once, less you lose it. And with the number of secrets you keep, well you're smart. I'll let you figure it out. Off with you now, you have ten minutes." And with that he walked off again, leaving the assistant behind. The assistant bolted, looking unsure of what to do. As Snow came across Peacekeeper he leaned in. "Have him followed. If he hasn't found Thread in ten minutes dispose of him. I have no need of useless employees." The Peacekeeper made a salute and left his post.

Snow sighed, coming close to a window. It overlooked his garden, one of the few places Snow liked to visit and relax. At the moment he would like to just sit and trim his flowers. The Districts would think it odd, him doing that.

"They believe I hate them. I don't." He said to himself. Lately Snow had found he could only really talk to himself. "But they need to be controlled; I need to keep them in line. So I send a man to enforce our laws. Romulus Thread, highest marks of the Peacekeeper academy, nose to the grindstone, hardworking, loyal. And what does he do? He turns District 12 into a prison camp. He pushes them to a point where the only hope they have is rebellion." He sighed again, thinking over his decision. For a man who made decisions that worked out so well his entire life, this one was a poor choice.

"Well, I'll simply dispose of him to. Peackeepers who don't do their job are expendable." As he said it Snow's eyes never once left the garden, never blinked. His voice was even, calm even as he spoke about killing men off. He held no care for the districts, but he needed what they produced. Snow often wondered if there was a better approach, but after this long any lapse in control would result in rebellion, which was happening anyway. "One girl could do so much. Clever girl."

After a moment of silence he turned around and continued his walk. It had been a few minutes since he stopped, and he had much to do. When he reached his office it was simple, small really, no bigger than the reading room in a Victors houses, containing a few large bookshelves, a desk, and a few chairs. Unlike them it also contained a computer, one with some of the darkest secrets Snow had. The moment he sat down the top of the desk opened, two metal plates with handprints rising out. He placed his hands down; the plate lite up before a metal tube with a needle slithered out, stabbing into his hand. A slight twitch of his eye was the only indication it affected him. After a moment the light on the tube lit green. When the objects returned to the table a single metal bar rose, exactly at eye level. Snow opened his eyes wide, and a light scanned his retina. Suddenly the computer activated, but Snow didn't look at it.

Now alone, free and waiting, President Snow took a deep breath. Suddenly his covered his nose, something rank and disgusting reaching his nostrils. His eyes went wide at the sudden shock, he knew the smell. His eyes darted to the source, and he had to stand in surprise. There, looking back at him, were the cold, dead, and pained eyes of Romulus Thread. Packed into the corner, out of sight, the corpse waited, skinned save for the head, the belly gutted with bones pulled out just enough to see. Snow could see that his insides were gone, ripped out. Snow immediately reached to the alarm button, but a powerful hand griped his wrist.

"No no no no." a condescending childish voice said to accompany the grip. Snow froze, every fiber of his being completely still, his blood no like ice. His breathing stopped, his muscles tense, fear so strong that he felt his heart would stop. He was so terrified he couldn't tremble, and only his eyes were able to move to the side to see who he knew was there. "Hello Snow." Parafron greeted, his head tilted, smile childish as his words, blood read eyes watching like a predator.

"How…how are you here?" Snow asked. A thousand things ran through his head, from his control, to mistakes, to how easily he could die. Everything he'd done recently was to keep this from happening. More Peacekeepers, more cameras, upgraded locks, everything was to make sure this didn't happen.

"Oh, that's rather simple really." Parafron explained, letting go of Snow's wrist and moving, almost like floating the way he moved, to one of the chairs. Parafron sat, one arm propped up and holding his head while the other hung loosely over the edge. Snow could see the blood coating his hands and shirt, even little droplets on his mouth. "You haven't made it hard to get in. Same doors, same locks, same everything. Putting a thousand eyes and bodies around won't change where things are. All the dark places, still here and there."

"I see. So, what can I help you with?" Snow asked. He had to be careful, especially this close. Parafron could not be predicted, anything could set him off. Snow has to use the most bland and polite words, and even then it was unlikely it would help. But right now, staring into the eyes of a man that smelled of death, Snow would find a solution.

"Help, what help are you?" Parafron asked, his eyes roaming the room bordly. "You called me here, to play a game Snow. You are worried you'll lose, so you want to have others win for you. Not fair Snow, not fair at all is it?"

"I see, yes. I would like for you to play this game for me."

"Twenty two." Parafron stated. Snow blinked, not sure of his meaning, though that was hardly a surprise. "What did I tell you Snow, that day you put a crown on my head? I told you I would kill you, yes?"

"Kill?" Snow asked, and his body went rigid again. Parafron always said beat, always a game. He never 'killed' anyone, not in his warped mind. "This is a game Parafron, you know that."

"Why don't you listen?" Parafron wined, looking like an annoyed child. "I didn't say play, I said kill. I will kill you. A number of lives, that was the bargain. Once reached, you will die. That was our agreement snow, we shook on it."

Snow let out a breath; he didn't even care about the smell of decay now. He remembered the bargain, but he didn't think Parafron would. A man that broken didn't keep track of such things, or so he though. Parafron let out a laugh, and then sprang. Before Snow could yelp the 'mad victors' hand was gripping his throat, lifting him up and pushing him against the book case. Eyes locked, teeth clenched, both men stared each other down. Snow felt the blood coat his neck, and saw just how much those altered eyes wanted him dead. Parafron leaned in close, licking his elongated canines, as if read to eat.

"You brought me here to win. 24 go in, 1 gets out. If it's me, then you owe twice over Snow. Twenty three will have died, one more then we agreed so long ago." Parafron whispered, bringing his other hand up brush Snow's beard. His voice was sickeningly sweet, soft and almost comforting. "Did you forget this? Did you not remember our deal? That day you crowned me, I told it would come. I will kill you Snow, once twenty two are dead. You have asked, over the years, and many have fallen. Many I enjoyed playing with." The tone was almost seductive, terrifying and close, as if to a loved one. "Only twenty two remain for me to kill, but twenty three must die. I'll have to let you linger a while, to pay the price of two."

"You won't win. Johanna is with you." Snow stated, and he knew this was his only card. Snow kept eyes on all his victors, each and every one. He had witnessed Parafron get close to Johanna, one of the reasons she was in these games. Parafron would die so she could live, it was a pattern the mad man had. Saying it now, He already felt the grip slacken. Those red eyes now dulled, annoyed but resigned.

"You are skilled at this game Snow, I will never argue that. But you've tried to remove me before, yet here I stand, waiting for the flames. A spark was lit, now it spreads." Parafron said, letting go. Snow fell to the ground, rubbing his neck to remove the soreness while Parafron returned to his seat, sitting back lazily. "You know bullying is bad right?"

"Pardon?"

"Bullying, it's bad. He…" Parafron pointed to Thread. "…was a bully. I taught him a lesson."

"I did call him to reprimand him."

"Really? Oh, sorry. It would seem I finished that for you." Parafron stated. His tone kept moving from childish to serious, never one tone or the next. Snow had seen him more stable before, with the other tributes, but apparently with him all sanity was gone. "Haymitch told me."

"You've been talking to Haymitch?"

"Oh yeah. It's not hard to find him at the nearest bar. Open air pub, ritzy place." Parafron explained, as if talking to a friend about his day. "I sat down, he smiled, think he was drunk. He noticed that man there, looked upset. Then he told me what he did. Oh, he was such a bully, hurting all those people. I didn't know he was coming for punishment, so I took care of it.

"And no one noticed?" Snow asked. Parafron and Thread were both large men, and Thread would put up a fight. This could be a lapse he needed to address, and Parafron was just crazy enough to explain it.

"Snow, no matter how many eyes you have, darkness still exists. I was born in it, molded by it; I am part of it when I want to be. Thread, less so." Parafron explained, like it was a math problem that needed to be solved. He now acted like he was speaking with a child. "So when I pulled him into a dark place, he didn't really have a chance to fight."

* * *

_**DARK ALLEY, SOMEWHERE IN THE CAPITOL(NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH)**_

_Romulus was thrown with force, his body rolling along the ground. The large man rose quickly, pulling a pistol from his holster. His dark grey eyes scanned, but the alley was dark, hidden away. No one was around him, not a sound, but something hit him. _

_ "So you like to hurt people?" a random voice called out. The narrow alley didn't let him know where it came from. It was cluttered, box's and trolley's, garbage cans and forgotten equipment. It was easy to see this place was never traveled, likely a dumping ground for some. _

_ "Come out!"_

_ "No." The other voice snapped. Thread spun again, but this time a powerful grip caught him. He yelped in pain as his pistol feel, and a blow came to his body. The hand that punched him lifted him as well, and with little effort the person attacking held Thread in the air. "Tough with a gun, and a group. But like all bullies when you're alone you're a pathetic wretch."_

_ "You…" Thread gasped out, glaring down. Parafron looked back up, glaring. The Victor slammed Thread into the wall, and once the peacekeeper cried out Parafron tossed him aside. Thread fell with a thump, but his training had made him tough. He jumped up and charged, clearly more angry than intelligent at the moment. With a right hook he struck Parafron's face, staggering the victor before he brought his arm back for a bunch to his belly. The impact was strong, Parafron, fell forward, but the 'mad victor' just smirked. His arms wrapped around Thread's, and he pulled. Forcing Thread to the ground he slammed his knee to the elbow, pulled with his might. The loud crack and backward bend of the arm were satisfying._

_ "I break cow's necks, you're arm, and you, are nothing." Parafron teased. Thread, to his credit, still struggled, but Parafron's weight was on him, and with only a single good arm he wasn't going anywhere. With his weight down Parafron could search, looking for anything. He found a large knife, one common to all Peacekeepers. He pulled it free. "This isn't a toy for bullies, not at all."_

_ "Get off me! I am a peacekeeper!"_

_Parafron promptly punched the man's head into the ground._

_/_

_It was with a groan that Thread awoke. A seething pain was in his arm, and he couldn't move it at all. In fact, none of his limbs seemed to want to move. When his eyes focused he saw why, his arms were bound with leather straps to for metal posts, his cloths missing. He was in some sort of abandoned building. Didn't look like it had any use, or at least wasn't in use for now. The bars looked like they were meant to hold something in place. He tried to pull his good arm free, but then a searing pain when through his leg._

_ "Let's not have that. You need to be taught a lesson." Parafron said, holding the knife now embedding into Thread's leg. Thread couldn't hear him while screaming, but Parafron didn't seem to care. He just lifted the knife up a little and started dragging it down. The skin pierced easily, opening and allowing him to see just where the real meat started. Thread screamed and screamed, never once having to deal with this pan._

_ "People don't normally fight you do they. And those that do are smaller, weaker. Bullies always do that. I've found that you need to treat them like pigs. Squealing little pigs." Parafron spoke, chastising. When the blade reached the foot Parafron smiled and pinched, taking the flesh in his free hand and pulling. Angling the knife he poked the tender line where skin met meat. Now Parafron didn't stab, no he sawed, moving the knife slowly. Thread's eyes shut tight with agony, his throat sore from screaming, and with no breath to continue. Parafron pulled the skin off slowly, the blood flowing freely. Bit by bit the flesh came loose, the red muscle beneath pulsing. Thread was not bout so tightly that he couldn't twitch, and each twitch of his leg just made it worse, running the muscle on the blade._

_Parafron only spoke more on being a better person, not being a bully, all the while making sure not an inch of skin remained. Thread could only scream and scream, but none could hear him. It took several minutes, an a lot of car, but soon Parafron pulled that large sheet of skin away, the while fatty tissue still trying to hold on despite being up. He tossed it away, not caring for it, before he moved to the other leg to repeat the process. By now Thread's face had lost all color, but he was not numb to the pain. The loss of blood was numbing him, but Parafron seemed to know, as his movements dragged on. He dragged his blade slowly, as if preparing a dead animal to be chopped._

_ "My father taught me to do this, when you have a bad pig you have to discipline them." Parafron now used polite conversation, like explaining his work. By now Thread didn't have the energy to scream, he could barely whimper. But his next reaction was subdued, the knife was stabbed into his stomach and dragged up. All he could give was a pained grown, already his body felt dead._

_Parafron's hands gripped both side of the cut and pulled, exposing his insides to the air. With a grin Parafron pulled more, the ribs spreading and cracking, sticking out into the air. The victor reached in, gripping something and pulling out._

_ "Oh, a liver." He commented before tossing it aside and grabbing another and repeating. Before long the ground was pooled with blood, intestines, stomach, kidneys, all his internal organs. "Need to be empty, can't have anything inside you for this." Parafron said, pulling the knife, but Thread didn't hear him. The peacekeeper, the man that tortured so many, no longer felt anything. His cold dead eyes looked up, And Parafron leaned in, searching for something._

_ "Lesson over."_

* * *

**SNOW'S OFFICE**

The president was still, gulping as Parafron explained what he did. Truth be told, Snow never had such things done. A painful death was one thing, a tormented mind another. What Parafron did, was senseless. And he didn't do it to send a message, he just did it. Snow's hands were gripped tightly, unable to really think of a way out. The man before him was insane, and vengeful, and vicious. He would make it hurt. But Snow knew all of this already, and he was honestly frightened.

He couldn't help the images of suffering he felt, and how hopeless it was. Everything was coming apart. He controlled with rod and iron, false hope and kindness. Now he could lose everything. The districts would not stop, not when they have the spark. All Katniss would be is a martyr. And now a madman was waiting to kill him, able to on a whim.

_"My own decisions, My own plans did this."_ He thought, and he knew it was true. A thought, and idea from before the dark days was something called karma. If such a thing existed he would burn.

"I have things to do Snow." Parafron stated, getting up. Snow flinched, but Parafron didn't seem to notice. He did lean in, head tiled, smile wide and eyes slanted. "Remember though, The dark is my home. And in secrets you spread darkness, and I don't like trespassers."

With that the mad victor exited the room, and Snow didn't care what happened. The president just fell into his chair, trembling. His pulse, his heart, were skyrocketing. He was so close to death, and given just another reason to be afraid. His mind was frantic, looking for a way out, but there wasn't one. He looked at his computer, a picture of the capitol on the screen. Wolves were everywhere. Many would love to see him disposed, his allies waiting for his downfall. Then he had the districts, faceless wraiths that hungered to end him. A girl on fire seeking to undo him, and a beast of shadow hope to rip him asunder. And he knew, deep down, that it was all his fault.

Every single decision he made lead to this. His iron grip, trying to keep the districts in line, only brought anger. He should have let the other districts win, the underdogs as it were. People would be happier, but he could only see rage if they won. Then he threatened Katniss, enforced it with new Peacekeepers, and it only brought rage. He made sure Parafron was in the games, but he only brought a monster to his doorstep. The control he kept, the fear he tried to inspire, was gone. Now he felt it, the one thing he always wanted to make sure everyone else felt.

Fear, Snow was terrified, and he could only blame himself for causing it.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

So, there. Now, I know I may be showing Katniss as week, but she's not. She's just realizing exactly what she has to lose, and how hopeless it all feels. She's going to fight though, and she's getting there, to the point where she won't feel fear enough to break. And another point of this chapter, I wanted to show that Snow feels fear, and that he can't control everything, and now he has reason to go so far. He's still a villain, and a despicable thing, but I always wondered how he felt about things. Here's my answer.

Read, enjoy, review,

Until next time, the King has left the building.


	6. Chapter 6: Hope for Someone's Future

Now, for those of you looking for madness you have to remember a few things. This story is about hope and fear, meaning that not every chapter will have insanity or madness as a factor. There is a reason for this in every chapter, so bear with me.

I stayed up till 6 this morning working on this, so there's a good chance I missed some grammar or spelling mistakes. Now, I have to sleep, so happy I don't have anything to do today.

**HOPE AND FEAR, A HUNGER GAMES STORY**

**Chapter 6: Hope for Someone's Future**

(PeetaPOV)

I look at the box in front of me, that small box that will help me do something I'd never do. Running my hand through my hair I slump forward, glaring at the box. I hated it, so much I hated it, but at the same time I held it so close to my heart. I look to the side; Haymitch was sitting here with me. He held a bottle in his hands, but it was still closed.

"Thank you." I say, looking into his eyes. He looks back, I see sadness there. Haymitch was always a guarded man, and just when he gets two people home he loses them. He nodded back.

"I've never pegged you as manipulative. Not to her anyway." He tells me. I just smile back.

"Haymitch, I'm not a survivor. Without Katniss I would have died in the arena the first time. But people, those people," I begin, pointing out the window. "I can easily deal with them. Words are a powerful thing, but for Katniss it's different. I'm going to make sure she knows what she has to lose."

"I told her she doesn't deserve you." Haymitch said, looking at me. I look back, and for a moment I feel rage, and by his wince I can tell he saw it to. But at the same time his words do reach me. "It's not that she's bad, it's that you're too good."

It's funny, seeing how similar they are. Haymitch may know the game but he's like Katniss, he's not as good with words. I can see a hundred ways to rephrase what he said, but his words hit me. He honestly sees me as deserving more than what Katniss gives me, that I'm too good for her. I smile at him, shaking my head.

"I won't say that, it's not about who deserves me. It's about who I want to be with."

"But you won't be with her. And among us you deserve to live the most." Haymitch argues. "But I made a deal with you; she's going to get out if we can do it."

"She's going to hurt you when she gets home." I joke, and I even see his smirk. He finally opens the bottle, offering to me first. I shake my head; he nods and takes a swig himself. "This is my choice Haymitch, not some love struck hormone driven idea. She is all I really have. I could move on, but she'd have more drive to do so."

"I hear you boy. Make them love it."

"Don't I always?" I asked with a grin. He laugh's out loud, getting up and walking off, likely to a bar in the city. Katniss isn't' up yet, we were not forced to train today. It's the personal viewing tonight, so she didn't have to wake up early. I did sneak out when Haymitch came by with the box; I still don't know how she didn't wake up.

Speaking of the box I pick it up, taking a breath as I open it and take out the contents. Perfect, simply and totally perfect. Haymitch, he is much smarter than he looks. A pendent, gold, with a mockingjay molded into it. With a tiny squeeze it snaps open, another feature I was happy about. Haymitch doesn't disappoint, something much more evident by what I found inside. The first, a picture of Mrs. Everdeen and Primrose. They are what made Katniss who she is, her reason for being. They are the reason she is strong, and if she wins the hope they will have a good life will push her on. The second picture makes me pause.

"Gale." I sigh, looking into those silver eyes. He could honestly be Katniss's sibling. "Sometimes, I really want to hate you. But I can't. You were there for Katniss when I wasn't, and you'll be there when I die. I don't know if we could ever be friends, but I respect you. You are the hope of a future, someone she can be with when I'm gone. How you must hate me now." I say all this aloud, not really considering if anyone was around. It was true though. Gale, if I had to trust anyone to look after Katniss it was him. I twitch when I think about it, but I know it's true. When she wins she'll be with Gale.

I'm not a fool, I know he's considered the 'stud' of district 12, every girl gushed about him. He was better looking than me, though many girls told me otherwise. I know I can't complain, I've not been unlucky. Girls like me, nice guy, feelings, handsome to boot, but I know I could never compete with him. If he showed a girl any interest they'd forget me completely. Not that it matters, the only girl I ever wanted was Katniss, so it wasn't like the feelings were ever mutual. Funny, the one girl I love was the target of the one man I knew would take her from me if he tried. At least I thought so, but now I'm telling her to go to him. I chuckle at how life works.

I can't help be feel like this is punishment, like they were supposed to be together but I stepped in. I dismiss it though, if a power felt that way then the Capitol would have fallen long ago.

I put the locket away, thinking about the right time to give it to her. During the games would be best. As I stand I hear Katniss step into the room. I turn to her, smile on my face, and she smiles back. This is what I'm going to remember, these moments, these smiles that for for me and an me alone.

"You weren't there when I woke up." She tells me, her smile shifting to a scowl. I smile back, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"I was hungry." I lie, though I did eat a roll. Her lips form into a thin line; I know I've upset her.

"Wake me up next time." She orders. I just nod. She looks to the box in front of me, her brow arched. "What's in the box?"

"Special delivery from an admirer. She owns a bakery in the capitol." I state, and it just rolls of my tongue. Normally I'd feel guilt for lying to her, but I've learned to accept it. Everything I do is to save her, and if that meant hiding the truth here and there I'd do it. It was my specialty after all.

"Oh…Did she make it herself?" She asked, holding and fiddling with her braid.

"Not likely, shame though. I like my women more hands on, outdoors type." I state, and I see her face flush. I can't help but smile at how I still affect her this way, how my words of affection still make her feel shy. In battle, hunting in the woods, surviving at all, she was a stature, powerful and mighty. But through a few heartfelt comments her way and she's shy. I wonder if Gale ever did this to her, and I smile at the unlikelihood of it. Not that he couldn't do it, but that she didn't even notice such things before me. I take some pride in that.

"So, we have an hour or so before we have to go down and wait to show off. Any idea what you're going to do?" I ask. She shrugs. "I think I'm going to paint something."

"Well, I can't threaten them this time; they put up a force field. Surprised that wasn't up before." She explains. "I'll think of something. Given what we've done it's likely we'll get low scores."

"Katniss, we can't. The people know our scores were good last time. Snow has to keep the people happy, so we can't get bad scores. You heard most of the others; I doubt any of them will do anything impressive." I state. It's true, anything they do will not affect there score. This is a game made to kill Katniss and I, and they all knew it. She still didn't look convinced, so I walked up to her, my hand under her chin, and made her look at me. "Either Snow will want a target on our back or for people to place bets on our death. Either way we won't be scoring low. Trust me, I know people."

"You know the only one I trust is you." She says, softer than her normal voice, her eyes dead locked in mine. I'm tempted to believe her, but I know she means in these games. So I smile, and wrap my arms around her.

"That's not true, Venia does good work on your eyebrows." She just looks at me, as if she can't believe my words, before she laughs. "And I must say they make you look incredible."

"You think that anyway."

"True, but it helps." She laughs again, and this is what I want. The ability to make her laugh like this. I know that every day she lives, every laugh she makes, will be because I died to keep her alive. That alone gives me the strength to do what I have to do.

* * *

**PRIVATE VIEWINGS**

I'm nervous, it's obvious to everyone. The other victors look at me with pity, save a few. Parafron was chained here, giving me a thumbs up as he went in, saying good luck. I can read people, but I will never understand him. All I know is that he went in with three Peacekeepers, and one escorted him out, gun pointed. Some of the victors smirked or laughed, others shook their heads in annoyance. Katniss looked at me with worry, but I just shrugged.

"He's insane. Do you want to know what he did?" I asked.

When my turn came I walked in, hours after arriving in the first place. Some tributes came out quickly; some took a long time, some looked happy, other bored. So when it was finally my turn I didn't know what I could do. When I stepped in I looked around, the room was bleached, I could tell that much. But the air still smelt of blood, likely Parafron's work.

_"What to do?"_ I asked myself after announcing my presence. What did I have to work with. Paint, I had paint to use, but they knew what I could do. They knew everything I could do, so this was just a game to them. They didn't have any stake in the outcome, nothing to hold them accountable… _"That it."_

I smirk as grab a few paints, buckets this time, and set up. I make a circle out of ropes, the floor my canvas. As I do this I set up a training dummy to stand over the circle. With that done I set to work. Brown paint first, on the floor, carful angles and edges, but no defined creatures. As it was, it looked like a smudge. The Gamemakers didn't seem to care, they just talked about nonsense. So I continued to add color, here and there, not adding definition yet. It's when I start to add random colors that they take notice. The pattern is floral, flowers of variously designs held in someone's arms. Next I added black, long locks of hair in a wavy pattern, and to add lash's to closed eyes.

There's a gasp, I look up and see the Gamemakers looking back. Most of them look shocked, like they can't accept what they are seeing. They are forced to look as something that happened because of them, and they don't want to accept it. A few even glare at me, obviously not liking what I did. But they can't do anything to me, not here, not yet. And in the games the people won't accept my death unless it's by another tribute. They have to see what I'm doing. But I'm not done with the image of Rue. No, I pick up the gold paint and go to the dummy. I paint the symbol of the capitol, and a smiling face, on it. Now it looks like they enjoy the death of children, and they look horrified that I dared point it out.

But, just to put a nail in the coffin, I do one last thing. With them all watching, waiting, I grip sides of the dummy, and squeeze. It shatters in my arms, coming apart so easily I barely noticed it. When I look back, my face is smirking. I've shown them, we know. We hold them responsible for what they did, and we will punish them.

"Get out!" One finally yells. I bow, and adding a flourish, and take my leave. Clearly they didn't want to think they were horrible, now they know it. I have no doubt that the cleaners are there second after I leave, scrubbing it down.

/

As I wait for Katniss I can't help but justified, prideful. I looked into the eyes of the Gamemakers, I didn't say anything, I was polite, and I got to them. I showed them something they didn't want to admit, and it got to them. How many people can say that? I don't think it's a large number. Everyone is here, chatting mildly, well Cinna, Portia and I are. Haymitch and Effie are bickering. It's become a sort of joke, entertainment that isn't bad. Why can't the Capitol have things like that?

"So sweetheart, how'd it go?" Haymitch suddenly asks. I turn to see Katniss enter, a knowing smirk on her face. I smile wider, knowing she did something spiteful. That's my Katniss, always showing them she won't back down. However, Haymitch doesn't look nearly as happy as I do. "You two did something stupid didn't you?"

Well, I've never said he wasn't clever. I know he praised Katniss last time for her stunt, but now that we have target on our backs he doesn't approve. Keep our heads low, don't' make grand gestures that would incur wrath. I glare at him, something that I'm doing more often.

"They already want us dead Haymitch, anything we do that may offend them is not going to change anything. Hell, it makes us, me at least feel better." I say, my tone even. He wasn't expecting that, I can tell.

"You're the nice one." He says, and though there is a hint of a joke in his voice I know he's anything but jovial.

"Everyone has limits." Katniss replied. "And we've reached ours. I don't care if they are the power, I'm not holding back anymore. I'm going to show them that they are monsters."

"What? Sweetheart, what did you do?" He asked again. Katniss sighed in irritation.

"I put a rope around a dummy and wrote 'Seneca Crane' on it." She explained. Haymitch chocked for a moment, eyes wide. "I shot an arrow into the heart area for good measure."

"You hung Seneca Crane?" Effie asked, mortified beyond belief. I looked at Katniss, and I couldn't help but feel pride. Before all this I would not wish such a thing, but when people play everything against you the feeling of being kind vanishes.

"He's dead, executed by Snow. I wanted to show them just how weak they are, just how much their lives really matter. The arrow was to show he died because of me, and they could die because of me." She explained, flatly, as if it was simple. I couldn't stop myself, I jumped up and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close and lifting her up. At first she is surprised, but she just hugs me back as best she can. It feels so good to hold her like this. Somewhere in my mind I think I just ruined chances of this happening again.

"That's worse than what I did." I said, acting like a child who did bad thing. She arches her brow when I put her down, asking for more. "I painted Rue, with the flowers, and a dummy with a smile looking at it. I made them see what they did, held them accountable for it. I then crushed the dummy, with a polite smile, showing they will pay for it someday."

"ARE YOU INSANE!" Haymitch finally yells, knocking us back to him. His face is red with fury; it is easy to see just how angry he is. His fist clenched so tight I think he'd break his own hands.

"What you did, it's forbidden…"Effie added, and I glared at her. This is the first time I've seen them remotely agree, but whereas Haymitch has right, Effie has none. She doesn't care about what danger we're in, just about manners, and laws, and looking well. My glare is intense, so much that she gulps.

"Effie, we're here to die. Not to play a game, to fight for our lives. The capitol is doing everything to make sure we die in the arena. And before that they sent children to the games every year, as young as twelve. You really think I care about what is forbidden?!" My voice is raised, just under a shout. She jumps back, clearly afraid of me. "I've been very calm and considerate when it came to the Capitol, when it came to you insulting us and our home, but I'm done. If all you are going to do is harp bout what is wrong and proper you need to leave. We have enough to deal with."

I finish, and honestly I don't feel regret. Normally I would, she's not here to hurt us, she's just Capitol born. But now, with my life on the line, because of the people she follows, I don't much care. Before when I would be civil, polite, it was just because I wasn't angry. But now, now I'm furious. I'm going to die and she tries to tell me not to oppose those who will kill me. The hurt in her eyes is clear, and I look around to see everyone is shocked by my outburst. Don't think they believe me wrong though.

"I'll be going. Good luck." Effie says as she stands and darts out, I think I saw a tear, but I wouldn't apologize. As Katniss said, we all have limits.

"Well you scared off the clown, good for you. Anything else you want to do the fuck up your chances?" Haymitch seethed.

"We were all thinking it." Katniss defended, but he wasn't appeased, In fact he looked more angry.

"Do you have any Idea what you've done?" he asked, his voice barely contained. "I'm working my ass off, making people like you, coaching you as best I can. You have to deal with a vindictive president, victors that will kill you outright, and PARAFRON!" he yells the name for effect. " And now you make it so the Gamemakers have a grudge? Show them they have no power compared to Snow, that they are insignificant? Do you want to die?"

"I'm going to die anyway, why should it matter?!" Katniss yelled back. My anger was instantly gone, my eyes were trained on her. Her eyes locked with Haymitch, and he didn't look like he wanted to speak now. They didn't back down, so stubborn they were.

"I don't want to see you, either of you." He said through clenched teeth. Katniss didn't need to be told twice. She and I left to her room, the smirk she was giving me clearly telling me she was happy with my actions.

/

(KatnissPOV)

I like this Peeta. His normal kindness, gentleness and all around good demeanor fits him, but I've always wanted him to be more forward. I'd never want him to lose his gentle and pure heart, but know Peeta had a limit and could get angry made it easier to approach him.

"I can't believe you said that to Effie." I state.

"Katniss, I'm a nice guy but I'm human. You'd think she would understand after doing this for years. I'm tired, tired of everything they do. As long as it won't make them think less of us out there I won't stay polite." He explains, and I see a fire in his eyes. He's had enough of this, and I thought he was beyond any form of anger. But now, I can see that he's human, he's not above us and that I can approach him. He's still too good for me, but now it's not so far between un. I feel a stirring in my belly, a warmth, and I know I don't want to be too far from him right now.

"Let's get ready for bed, nothing else to do tonight." I say. He nods, standing and pulling his shirt off. I want to protest, but seeing his body stops me short. His training has been very good to him, as well as the food from being a victor. His muscles are more defined, though still not to the level of Gale, and he looks more broad than ever. This is what the girls always talked about in school, and I can't look away.

"Katniss? I'm not that hot." He laughs.

"Yes you are." I say absent mindedly.

"I know you've seen Gale in less, and I don't match up to him." He says, and that wakes me. I scowl, why did he bring up Gale? I know he has insecurities about Gale, but I told him nothing happened between us. Now, when I'm feeling these…emotions it could, but not anytime soon. Gale may have worked hard, but he didn't have the food or constant training to build up, though now that I think on it he did look bigger last time I saw him.

"Why do you always bring him up?" I ask in annoyance. Now I have Gale on my mind, my subconscious is comparing them again. Girls did this all the time, so I guess that's normal for me to do. But the more I compare them the warmer I feel, imagining their bodies, rippling muscle, lips and hands, my thighs rubbed together in anticipation. I shook my head, now was not the time.

"Didn't mean anything by it, just stating a fact."

_"Except you are your own type of sexy!_" my mind screams, and though I dismiss the thought it's true. I hear things, and though Peeta feels girls fawn over Gale I know many say he's the better. Why does he have such issues, it's easy to see that he's desirable. Damn, there goes the throbbing again. I need to take care of this now. "Peeta, I would like to be alone for a bit."

"Why?"

"Now!" I shout, and he's gone. Good, he's done enough to me already.

* * *

**SNOW'S OFFICE**

(SnowPOV)

The scores were decided long before I called Plutarch in. Normally I don't much care what they are, the Gamemakers try to be even and fair. In the end it was rarely a count of skill, as districts 1, 2, and 4 always got high marks regardless. The other districts needed to show some form of talent or attitude. This year, this year I needed to intervene.

"Last year she shot an arrow at the Head Gamemaker." I stated, looking to Plutarch. The man still smiled, even in my presence. Odd but I had little time. "And now she uses my own actions against me. Showing you that I can kill you all in an instant, and that he died thanks to her. Added to that Mellark makes you see what you do, shows you what he believes to be monstrous." I say.

"You underestimated them." The Gamemaker tells me. I just star back, I'm sure he was trying to be funny.

"If she lived in the capitol I'd fear she would undo my position. Every choice I make seems to strengthen her." I said. "Did you know I didn't rig the Quarter Quell this year?"

"I never thought you would. It's always fair." Plutarch tells me, ever ignorant of things. I just sigh.

"Some time ago someone thought we'd be so powerful that no one could oppose us. Do you think I'd have the people hate me for removing there hope?" Snow asked. Plutarch shook his head, a clear no. "They already hate me, but she made a spark. So I threaten her, and it just makes her angry and bring Mellark into the equation. I shuffle the tributes to make sure Parafron is with them, and he kills a Peacekeeper then hides in this room with a dead body only to threaten me. And on top of that I anger the Capitol, enrage the districts, and mark myself for death."

"People are never happy; it's what we learned as Gamemakers. The districts have to look happy, as well as they can. But the Capitol is just a bunch if fickle, idiotic people that think nothing of the outside world. You can't blame the districts for how they feel."

"No, but you can stamp it out of them." I snap, for once losing my cool demeanor. He doesn't' bat an eyelash, not like Crane. Crane was easy to manipulate, soft at times. I still wonder why a simple shot wasn't enough. Yes people would be upset for a time, but it would pass. "Do you think me cruel?"

"You do what you have to do."

"Correct, which is why I want you to change the scores." I explain. He looks apprehensive. I expected as much. "I want Everdeen and Mellark to have twelve's. Is that understood?"

"Sir, that's a bit excessive don't you think? They haven't done anything to warrant that."

"They showed open defiance and disloyalty."

"Why not just execute them now?" He snapped. My brow rose at the outburst, but he sighed and pinching bridge of his nose. "Sorry, stress. But sir, it seems an awful lot to try and kill two teenagers. Especially when they didn't start this."

"I'm sorry? Didn't start this? They, her specifically, lit the spark of rebellion. We kill children each year, you design the arena's yourself. This fall perfectly within grounds. It's not about what their skills are, but what they did."

"Sire, we aren't even giving that score to Parafron, and he rips a man's spine out in front of us." Plutarch argued.

"A Peacekeeper that abused Avox's. Not exactly on my list of important things. The man would have been put down anyway. Do as I say Plutarch, that's all. She showed you what will happen if you fail, don't make me have to obey her words. I wouldn't like that very much."

"Yes sir." He agreed, bowing before walking out. I looked down at the files before me, detailing everything. This was a gamble, a big one. I took some of the most loved victors for this. My hope is for Finnick to win, he's still young and of use. The others have long outlived their usefulness, or are simply not as popular. In my hand is still the file of the Quarter Quell, I sneer.

"You idiotic fool. You don't run an empire and stay in power by removing hope. That was the point of the games, to give a small hope. To think a president could be that stupid. Showing everyone that they aren't safe, what's the point of living at all?" I say, anger flowing though me. I still cannot believe the arrogance of my predecessors. We oppress them, keep them week, but show that there is hope, that things can be okay for a time. Did they not think this would cause a riot, a rebellion? It's the same reason we don't take twenty four random people and shoot them in the street.

I sigh again, throwing down the file. It truly would have been better to kill them off, let there be no victor's, and give a parcel day to each district for a year. How do I keep control, how do I keep this from burning around me?

* * *

**THE FOLLOWING DAY**

(KatnissPOV)

I was laughing, honestly laughing. Haymitch and Effie said we didn't need their help with the interviews, so today was purely mine and Peeta's. I lamented about not having anywhere to go, but Peeta was clever as always. Now we're on the roof of the training center, Peeta have prepared a basket of bread and fruit. I asked for meat, he said he didn't want to spoil my dinner. When I scowled he chuckled. It didn't stop with the food, he cared a bottle with him to, he said it was a light wine made so that younger people could drink but not get drunk, two glasses, and a mat for us to sit on.

So here we are now, glass full of wine, sipping and eating bits of fruit and bread. Peeta even got goat cheese to smear on it. I remember Madge telling me this is called a date. I never understood the point of such a thing, but then again at the time when it would have mattered I was busy hunting, finding food to survive, and didn't have the luxury of dating. In my opinion Peeta was good at it, not that I have much to compare it to. Gale never told me about dates, and he likely didn't waste time with it. It's much more Peeta than Gale as far as I can tell. He joked, told me stories about his brothers, the few times his mother was kind to him, happy thoughts. It honestly felt like he was telling me things so that I would remember them, like it was the end.

In the back of my head I knew he was, but I was going to enjoy it instead, and it wasn't hard. Gale was the only one that ever made me feel at ease before, but there was little talking. With Peeta is more communication, learning, speaking. I don't know which I prefer to be honest. But for now, maybe because I could die in a few days, or maybe because it's new, I was enjoying it immensely.

Before long I'm lying down, head on his lap as he plays with my hair. He makes some excuse about practicing knots, I don't mind. Sometimes Gale would do this, he said it was to help with his traps. I used to believe him, but now I don't know. I'm making a crown of flowers, and to be honest I like the quiet. No one see's us, I don't see any cameras, not like they are needed. The area is too small to do anything 'rebellious'. If I ever did date, this would be perfect.

"Perfect." Peeta says, barely above a whisper. I look up at him, confused. Did I look so content that he could read my mind, or was he just complimenting the situation.

"What's up?" I ask.

"This moment, it's perfect. So many years, for so long, I've wanted this." He admits. I see happiness in his eyes, but also a sadness. "You and me, out on a picnic, but not like this. Not with confused feelings, death on our heads."

I know this must hurt him, knowing this was not because of love. But when I think about it, if the games didn't happen this might have been what we did. I'd still be confused, unsure, and getting used to it, if I could.

"This might have been us anyway, if you asked and the games didn't happen." I say, and it's true. Maybe Gale would have told me his feelings, maybe I would have told him I was trying with Peeta and seeing where it went, but it's possible. His smile tells me he likes this idea. Romantic, attractive, kind, I have trouble finding flaw in him, but then I know he has a point where it stops. I can't help feeling like I learn more and more, and if Gale was like this. On the surface Gale is not soft, not romantic. He is fierce, strong outwardly in character, the opposite of Peeta. But if I had started this with him, would I learn like this? Would he show me a sensitive soul, that he can be gentle just like Peeta can be aggressive? I should feel guilt at thinking this now, but I can't help but wonder.

"I was too shy, to scared, always thinking you were with Gale." He stated.

"Well, if you didn't say anything it would have been him." I admit. His eyes shoot open, and I feel I've ruined the moment, but his hands still fiddle with my braid. I continue. "I never had time for romance Peeta, but if you said nothing, never approached me, I would have been with Gale. It would just make sense. He's my best friend, my hunting partner; it would have just worked out. Love wouldn't really matter, though I could probably learn to love him."

"And I would have respected that. We have difference's, but Gales a good man."

"He thinks the same of you." I know he doesn't believe me, but it's true. For Gale to say someone is hard to hate is as close to respect as he gets. Peeta smiles again, tilting his head to one side.

"It's wrong, but I'm happy the games brought us together. I doubt I had the spine to approach you otherwise."

"I would have thanked you eventually, after that who knows." I explain. His eyes are locked with mine, those impossible blue orbs that I can get lost in so easily. This is something Gale didn't have, his eyes were fierce and striking, looking though you. Peeta was passionate, loving, gazing into your soul. I wonder what he sees, but fear it at the same time. His love is so strong, and I'll never deserve it for what I've done.

"This moment, I wish I could freeze it forever." He finally says, our eyes never parting. His words hit me, this is all he wants. Not a wedding, not kiss's, not a family, just this. He loves me so much that he is content to just sit here, my head on his lap, hands in my hair, with my confused feelings intact. How can he love me this much, how can anyone love this much? He barely knows me, at least for such devotion.

All at once the fire inside me ignite like an inferno. How he looks, how his body feels, his words and eyes, his love, I want all of it. And why not? I can count the number of days I have left, and this is something I want to experience before I die. And when he lives, this will be the one thing I did for him, let him have all of me for a time, if not my love than as close as I can get to it. I reach up, my hand gripping his shirt. His brow goes up in surprise when I speak.

"Why freeze it, when we could do more?" I ask and pull him down. Instantly our lips collide, and I pour all my passion into it. Not the cameras, not survival, just me and my want. I want him now, I want to taste him, I want to taste that love and passion, and return with my own fire. His lips are firm, warm as my tongue darts forward, licking for admittance. Immediately his own wrestles with mine, tasting my mouth in a way I never knew before. It's like all our kisses were holding him back, and now he was going to make up for it. He's atop me, his strong arm pulling me closer as he steadies himself with the other, my arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close. I search his mouth, hungry for more of him, this heat only getting more intense.

My leg rives to his waste, locking him to me and pressing our bodies together more, and I can feel his strong body, hot and pulsing, and it only makes me wrap my other leg around his as well. He separates out lips, kissing along my jaw to my neck, his hips rocking back and forth as his bulge grows. It's pressing against my center, begging to break through our cloths. I moan as his kiss's reach my neck, knowing exactly where to touch and tease.

"Peeta…"I moan.

"Katniss, are you sure?" he suddenly asks. How on earth did he have to capacity to ask now? He was a male right? Just a Peeta thing I guess, making sure I want this.

"Peeta, in the next few days I could be dead, you could be dead." I argue. "I want this, I want to experience love like this, even if I can't give it. And I want it to be you, because I know you love me."

"Katniss, I don't want you to thi…"

"It's not because I owe you. Peeta, you love me, and if this happens I want it to be with someone that loves me."

"Katniss, is it your first time?" he asks, disbelieving. "I mean, you and Gale…"

"Peeta, how many times do I have to tell you? We're friends, I never thought about it." Why is he taking so long? I want this, how clear can I be?

"Oh Katniss." He whispers, and then attacks my lips again. He's not rough, but he presses me to the mat as our tongues battle for dominance. I'm winning, but his hand runs along my side, and I moan outright. I feel his fingers reach under my shirt, moving over my middle slowly, agonizingly. When he reaches the breast his hand grips through my bra, the pressure, the heat, the want, I love it so.

All too soon he pulls away, gripping the hem of his shirt and ripping it off, so eager. I smirk, pulling reaching to pull my shirt off as well, but his hands reach first. He doesn't rip it off, just moves as if I'm a precious thing, a present he wants to savor. My stomach, flat and toned from my years of hunting and starvation, only recently filled in thanks to proper eating, cause him to gaze lovingly. He leans down, kissing my belly button, and as I arch my brow at it his tongue slides along me. Hot breath, his warm tongue, push and stimulate the muscles, pressing down, rubbing with a sleekness. To see him pay such attention, to love even a none sexual part of me, only makes my desire grow.

When I make a whining noise he winks at me, lifting my shirt more, to slowly for my like, but when he finally has it over my head he looks charmed, enthralled, like I was a goddess.

"You are so beautiful." He says to me, and I love how he means it. He reaches behind me as I prop up on my elbows, his masterful hands finding the clasp of my bra almost immediately. It's off and I am bare before him, his gaze not changing. His hands instantly hold me, lightly gripping each breast, like he want to make sure he won't' break them. His hands feel wonderful on me, especially when he starts to squeeze. His thumb circle constantly, running over my nipples while his fingers kneed my flesh, it's so new, so good to feel him work my body like this. I can't help but moan, his hands so trained for this, so masterful at it. I gasp when I feel the sudden wetness of his mouth engulf my now pert nipple, his teeth bighting down lightly.

My eyes are wide as his teeth hold me, only stopping to suck on my breast, flick with his tongue, and biting down again. I feel my center dampen with excitement, unable to bare his treatment of me. He alternates his kneading hand and mouth, never leaving a breast unattended. With his bulge constantly pressing down on my core, his hands an mouth teasing my breasts, my mind was going blank. I've never felt this before, but it was so good I could not wait for more.

"You're so good at this!" I moan loudly, and suddenly he stopped. I looked at him, angry suddenly, when I see worry in his eyes. All I said was that he's good at this…oh. He must have had experience before. Suddenly I feel a deep loathing, but my body is still hot so it turns to anger. "You've done this with someone else."

"Please listen." He said. I glare, but nod. "I've had girlfriends Katniss, I never thought I had a chance with you. I've gotten this far, maybe a bit further, but I've never passed this point. It never felt right, it wasn't you. I'm almost as new as you are Katniss, I just know how to please you above the belt."

"Oh." I respond, and I can't really be upset. He never thought he could be with me, I can't blame him. And it does feel better knowing he's got some idea what he's doing. "Why are you not sucking my breast?" I ask suddenly. He looks at me, pleased with my response. We're going to learn together.

Any other thought was gone the second his mouth was on me again, this time pulling with his teeth, only to flick with his tongue again. My arms wrapped around his head, pulling him closer to me chest, my legs tightening around him. He began to buck his hips now, pressing down harder on me, causing me to release shallow breaths I didn't' know I was holding.

"I want to feel you." He whispered, he voice soft against my ear. He shifted his body so that he was at my side, and I already missed his closeness. "I'm new at this, so bear with me"

"What?" I ask, but his hand finds my pants before he answers, already sliding inside. He smirks at how wet I am, and the moment his fingers reach my core my breathing stops. His fingers are pressed to me by my pants, the slightest movements sending shivers up my spine. He circles my lips with his finger, stroking me gently, sliding with my juices as if collecting them. When he pulled his hand out I could see his coated fingers, slick with me. He licked them clean, slowly tasting me. I wanted to jump him this instant after that.

"Katniss, you are so wonderful, all of you." He said, and his voice made me melt. It's like he could talk me to release. He started to undo my pants; I was too busy pulling his face to mine for another heated kiss. I kicked them off, leaving me in only my panties, when his hand found me again. He cupped my sex, using the same pressure as he did on my breasts. I moaned into his mouth, but I pulled away with a sudden hitch in my breath as I felt his fingers enter me, two that wiggled inside me, rubbing my inner walls as much as possible. As his fingers explored my folds my body shook, eye twitched at eh sensation, I couldn't form a coherent sentence at all. I nearly screamed when his palm pressed onto my clit, my body going tight with pleasure.

As his one hand entered me, his other cupped my breast again, pinching my nipple while is mouth sucked lightly on my neck. All I could feel was what he did to me, the fire in my belly covering all of me at once, my body acting on its own. My thighs wrapped round his hand, locking him in place as the fire burst, my body shacking as I called out his name.

"PEETA!" I screamed as I came, my release shattering and pleasing all at once. His hand remained inside me, catching my essence. My breath came out fast now, ragged, uncontrolled from my orgasm. I had never once in my life felt that, but I wanted it again. My eyes looked to Peeta, he looked surprised and pleased with himself all at once. Pulling his hand out of me, I already felt empty with it gone, he tasted me again. The way he licked his hand made me twitch. "Me, taste me, not your hand." I demanded, tact gone from me mind now.

His eyes lit up as he moved, faster than I've ever seen him, you would think he didn't have a prosthetic. He grabbed my drenched panties, pulling them off as quickly as he could before parting my legs. When he gazed down at me, now fully bare, he still marveled. I grunted, wanting him to move faster, and he did. Gripping my thighs he lifted me up, making me gasp in surprise, as he brought his face to me core. His tongue darted out, lapping at my fluids, his eyes closed.

I continued to gasp, unable to hold a breath after each slide of his tongue. When he entered me I could only let out long winded moans of bliss. He had no pace, no idea how to do this, but I had no idea what I wanted. It was new, so amazingly new, all I wanted was for him to keep going. My upper back, shoulder and head were on the mat, my legs wrapping around his head to bring his tongue deeper into me, my wide with pleasure.

"Your tongue, is so good!" I moan. I should have known, his way with words should have been proof enough of it.

Before long I felt myself ready to cum again, and my thighs tightened around his head even more. When it hit my body went limp, but his tongue just kept lapping, trying to take in all of me.

"Katniss, oh my Katniss…"was all he said, and it was enough. Even in my state I know he thought I was special, amazing, perfect.

"My turn." I say as he puts me down. He looks at me in confusion. I point to his crotch, his bulge threatening to rip through his pants. He blushed. "Really, you're blushing now?"

"A girls never seen me…erect." He whispers. I roll my eyes, but get up. I'm faster than him, so when I reach for his pants he can't stop me. He's kneeling down, so I can't get them off fully, but I don't' have to. Once down his cock springs up, erect and throbbing for attention. My eyes widen at it, I have no idea what to do. It's a weird looking thing, but all I feel is want for it. But the issue isnt' want, it's huge. I don't know how to compare it, though if I remember correctly Gale was a bit smaller, though it was cold and hardly in this situation. How am I supposed to get that into me?

"Peeta, what do I do?" I ask.

"Um, use your mouth?"

"I don't want to choke."

"Don't deep throat it then." He suggested. "My brothers say that's an issue."

How lucky he has brothers. I grab him and pull him down to his back, allowing me to fullt decloth him. His cock is still erect, point up at me as I consider what to do. He used his mouth, so I guess I should. But, how?

I start like he did, with my tongue. I run it around the tip, slowly, getting used to the taste. It's an odd taste, I don't know how to describe it. When he lets out a light moan I know I'm doing the right thing. I kiss it, more out of trying to be romantic than desire, and he twitches, so I run my tongue over his shaft. My mouth is wide, my tongue coating him and licking him, my lips closing on the shaft and sucking. His gasps and moans are pleasant, polite even, as if he didn't want to make me feel pressured. Only Peeta could do that. When I return to the tip I decide enough teasing, and open wide. My lips circle him, and his sudden gasp tells me my mouth is wonderful. I slide down, inching him more and more, my lips stretching to accommodate. When he reaches the back of my throat I start to bob my head up and down, not even half of him in my mouth. He's not complaining, but I don't' want him to feel dissatisfied. I reach for his shaft with my hand and start pumping in tandem with my head. I look up at him, silently asking if this is right. His eyes look back with bliss, clearly it is.

He is so hard, so hot, I just want to swallow him. My speed increases, the sucking increased as well, my grip on him tightening. He moans louder and louder as his cock throbs between my lips. When he bucks his hips I hold still, letting him push as deep as I could manage. Without warning aside from a gasp I feel his seed shoot into my mouth, flooding my throat as I try to swallow. My lips are tight, but it still slips past, falling over my chest and his legs. I continue to swallow, taking as much as a I could.

When he finally stops I lean back, licking my lips as the last bit goes down my throat. I'm trying to gauge the taste, salty, but sort of sweet, thick defiantly. It's not bad, but I can't say it's appetizing. I wonder if it's supposed to be tasted. I know its genetic material for breeding, so I guess it wasn't meant to be swallowed.

"Wow. This was your first time?" he asks. I smirk.

"Just like you."

"Damn." Is all he can say back. He looks tired, but I won't have that. There is a throbbing between my thighs, and only one thing is going to stop it.

"We're not done." I state.

"I know." He smirks back, sitting up and grabbing my shoulders. He pulls me to him and kiss's me, I notice his tongue is absent, but I don't blame him. Who wants to really taste themselves? He turns us over so that he's above me again, his dong now level with my core. He looks nervous, I am to.

"Peeta, be gentle. It's supposed to hurt so go slow." I instruct. From what I remember my mother telling me after the first Games that sound right. Peeta looks at me with worry. We don't have much sex education in 12, he likely doesn't' know more than pennies plus vagina mean's baby. "It's natural."

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." He asks, and I nod. To make things easier I wrap my legs around him again, putting my hands on his chest as he starts to slide in. It's easy at first, slick with my juices, though a little uncomfortable due to his size. When he meets a wall within we both know what will happen. I hold my breath, nodding. He thrusts forward, and instantly I want to scream. I feel like I'm being torn apart, his huge cock ripping me in two. I feel blood flow from me, trickling along his cock, but he doesn't move. Even as tears escape me he stays still, letting me do as I please. I know my legs are squeezing him, and I know it's hard for him to be still, and I love that he's not acting on it.

After a minute I buck up, and it's different. It's still so huge inside me, and not comfortable yet, but I feel so full already. Peeta gets the message and pushes deeper into me, I moan and grunt as he stretches me, my center throbbing for more but screaming for less at the same time. He pushes as deep as he can go without resistance, then pulls out to do it again. His hips rock back and forth in a steady and slow rhythm, and that's good for me. I'm adjusting to him, and his pace increases, and slowly that pain is setting my body on fire again. I want him to move faster, I want him to spread me more. With my legs I pull him deeper, and his kiss's me. We moan to each other as he enters me again and again, reaching deeper and deeper. He can't fit fully inside me yet, but it's so good I don't' want to stop.

His hands glide over my body as we make love, breasts and thighs, belly and arms, rubbing circles into my muscles and massaging me. My hands run though his hair and along his back, scratching when he thrusts a little to forcefully. He's being gentle though, I know it. If Peeta wanted this could be rough, and it would hurt, but that's not my Peeta.

"Katniss…" he whispers into my ear after some times. His words are magical to me, whispering ever so often words of love, passion, each time making me buck harder against him. "I'm about to cum."

"Peeta…"Is all I can say in turn, already feeling his throbbing cock. My walls clench around him gently, I'm reaching my release as well. His gasping, grunting as his thrust become erratic. He had no rhythm, but now there was little anything but rapid push's. "Please." I say next, and he hears me. MY eyes roll back into my head as he cum's, folding my womb with his seed, my toes curling and fingers digging into his back. I moan loudly as my orgasm strikes next, unable to fully fathom what I was feeling now. Hot cum inside me, a cock spreading my walls, and strong loving arms holding me. Isn't' this was everyone girl wants?

We are silent for a while, Peeta rolling onto his side, breathing lightly. I can see he is tired, and I am too. I could do this again, but my body doesn't want to. My mother mentioned something like this before, but I forget her words.

"Katniss…that was amazing." Peeta finally says. "I have nothing to compare to, but it was the single greatest experience of my life."

I blush at his comments, at his compliments, cause I feel the same. It I know this was what it was like I would have tried it sooner. That feels wrong to think, but it's true. Actions speak louder than words for me.

"Thank you." He adds, and looks into my eyes. "I know you don't love me like that, but this is the greatest thing you could do for me." He said, and the way he says it I feel no guilt. "You gave yourself to me in the best way you could Katniss. I wish it could be different, but all I ever wanted to be close to you. I'm your first, you're mine. If we were able to have a real relationship, well for me this is as good as it gets."

"Peeta…" I begin, but have trouble with the words. But he waits. "I'm happy it was you. I know that it would have been Gale if things happened differently, but it didn't. I don't know the words, but you make me feel safe, and knowing I could give this to you, it makes it special in a way I never knew I wanted."

He smiled, nodding. It's not perfect, what we have. I do love Peeta, but not that way, just as I love Gale, but not that way. I'm confused, but I don't' have the time to figure it out. Given that, this was what felt right. Peeta reach for me, his hand resting on my belly. I scrunch my nose, wondering why, but it hits me not a second later. I would be angry, but I can't be.

Peeta has done something clever again, planed or not. He knows I'm going to do everything to keep him alive. But if he has his way, I'll live. I'd feel guilt, I'd miss him, but not if he gave me this. A small part of him should I live and he die. Being that I won't I can't be angry at a chance, I can't be angry at the possibility when it could be nothing. Peeta tried to give me hope of a future without him, by giving me something we both made. Clever, no guaranty and he knows it, but clever.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Hey everyone. Well, as you know this story isn't' about madness. The theme is fear one chapter, hope the next. This chapter, as you can tell, is hope. And it was made with a reason, I wanted to explore some of Peeta's thoughts and ideas, his reasoning. I also wanted to show that things aren't clear cut. Now, the ending lemon was a little tricky. I never really dealt with 'virgins', at least not realistically in writing. So I have no idea how that went. Kind of up to you to let me know. To answer the question before it's asked, no, Peeta was not trying to get Katniss pregnant. The thought that she might be did cross his mind after though, hence why Katniss isn't upset. She knows that even if it was planned there is not guarantee, given that the capitol may have treated her so she doesn't get pregnant for the games, etc. She's also planning to die for him so if she is it won't matter. So, there was no plan, just after thoughts, and the theme of hope for a future. If Katniss lives she could potentially have Peeta's child, a piece of him to hold on to, that will let her move on without guilt. Something like that. I'll leave her being pregnant up to you. It's not a central plot to the story, as it's not a romance really, but hey.

Sorry for the delay by the way.

Anyway, read, enjoy, review.

Until next time, the King has left the building.


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